Chapter Twenty-Two

"So where are we going?" Thomas asked at dawn the next morning as the two of them sat beside the small campfire and munched on the jerked beef he'd brought along in his saddlebag.

Elizabeth laid her hand over her stomach and shrugged as she stared sadly into the fire, "I don't know."

"Well you can't go back to the ranch that's for sure."

"Is my pa really dead?" she asked softly.

"I'm afraid so Miss Mcr... Mrs. Atkinson," he replied awkwardly.

"Elizabeth. Call me Elizabeth. If there was one thing Brody made me realize, it was that I was a bit of a bitch."

"No ma'am." Thomas argued. "You just had to show everyone that you were the boss."

Elizabeth gave him a small half smile, "Thanks for being nice."

She picked up a stick and poked at the fire while trying to think of where she could possibly go. According to Grant, the entire world, other than Grant, Thomas and Rene, thought that Elizabeth McCready-Atkinson was dead, "I don't have anywhere to go, Thomas. I don't have any family left."

Thomas thought for a moment and then shifted positions and leaned back against the tree behind him, "What about Brody's family? If y'all was married then they're your family now too."

Elizabeth hadn't thought of that before and at first she felt a sliver of hope but then shook her head, "I have no proof that I was Brody's wife. The preacher gave us the signed paper but Brody had it and when they..... When they shot him, I...." Her voice broke slightly and she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. The only man who had ever seen her cry was Brody and she didn't like looking weak.

"You saw him get killed?" Thomas demanded with shock. He hadn't realized that she had witnessed the murder and suddenly her broken spirit made perfect sense. Who wouldn't be broken after seeing the person they loved be gunned down?

Elizabeth felt tears sting her eyes and blinked them back, only to find that when she closed her eyes she saw that bullet tearing into Brody's broad chest. She heard him yelling desperately at her to run. She saw him throwing himself in front of Petey to keep the second bullet, that was meant for her, from finding its mark.

"It was horrible," she choked out and her chin began to quiver with the effort she was using to hold back her tears. "They shot him three times, and still he tried to fight them. Then they kicked him, they kicked him while he was helpless. What kind of monsters do that?!"

"The bad kind," Thomas offered.

"He died for me, Thomas," Elizabeth needed to get all of this out. She needed to let out her tears and her pain. She needed to share her sorrow with someone else.

Thomas was startled by her sudden tears. Elizabeth had always been icy, proud and hard. This sudden feminine show of emotion had him feeling as uncomfortable and awkward as a cowboy caught naked at the rodeo.

"He wanted me to run," Elizabeth whispered as she swiped desperately at her cheeks to dry them, only to have them become drenched again by the new tears. "He was gonna use his body to shield me and fight them men off long enough for me to get away. But I couldn't run.. I wanted to save him! It's my fault he's dead... He died because he was with me..." Elizabeth broke down into heart wrenching sobs that shook her whole body and Thomas knew he had to do something to comfort her. So he did the only thing that any man could do when a woman was overcome with tears.

He moved to the other side of the fire, sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. She gripped him with so much force that it hurt, (not that he'd admit that to her), and she sobbed against his chest for a long time. The sun was burning through the mist when she finally composed herself and pulled away.

"I'm sorry," she gasped as she flamed red with embarrassment and went back to poking the dying fire.

Thomas shook his head and smiled slightly, "I ain't never been in love, Elizabeth, but I hope when I fall in love, it's with a woman that loves me as much as you love Brody."

Elizabeth knew that if she tried to say something in response, she would burst into tears again and that was something she couldn't allow herself to do.

"Anyway--" Thomas said as he stood up and wiped off his pants. "I think we should go to Brody's family. The worst that can happen is they'll say they don't believe you and send you on your way and if that happens then you ain't any worse off than you are now."

Elizabeth knew he was right. It was the only choice that she had, "They live outside of Harmony, Virginia."

"Then Harmony, Virginia is where we're heading." Thomas said, trying to smile and lighten her mood.

***

"Is that the ranch?" LeRoy asked as the big house and barns came into view. Brody gave a barely distinguishable nod. LeRoy had never seen such a cold, hate filled look on any persons face. LeRoy felt sorry for whatever poor sap Brody was coming here for.

"Who are we here for?" he asked.

"Braxton, Anita and Ernest." Brody replied coldly.

"A woman? You're gonna kill a woman?"

Brody nodded again and flicked the reigns to start down the hill toward the ranch. LeRoy shook his head and sent a silent prayer up to God to forgive his grief crazed friend for the future sins he was about to commit.

LeRoy had only come along to try to keep the man alive. Brody had saved his life more than once in the war. As a matter of fact the scars on LeRoys face were from a mortar round that would have taken his life if Brody hadn't knocked him out of the way. He owed his life to Brody. He'd been working hard over the last few years to live his life in a way that would please God. Surely God would want him to offer his friend what guidance he could.

"You shouldn't kill these people, Brody," LeRoy said suddenly. "It won't bring your wife back and it won't get you any closer to heaven"

"You're free to leave," Brody replied sternly. "I got killing to do." Brody urged his horse faster. He didn't want to hear anything about heaven or God. As far as he was concerned God could rot in hell along with the rest of the murderers of the world. God had taken his wife away and Brody would never forgive that son of a bitch.

LeRoy shook his head and followed behind him, "I tried." he whispered up at the sky.

The first person they met was Cookie, who looked shocked when he saw Brody, "Boy I thought you was dead!" he exclaimed as Brody jumped from his horse, and landed firmly on the dusty ground. Pain shot through his leg but he didn't let a single ounce of that discomfort show on his rock hard face.

"I'm looking for Anita, Ernest and Braxton."

"What for?" Cookie asked suspiciously as he watched the other man get down from his horse. Cookie had been around a long time and he knew what a man with killing on his mind looked like. Brody was definitely a man with killing on his mind.

"You know why I'm here, Cookie. They killed her and, by God, I aim to kill them back."

Cookie nodded. The story had gotten out at the ranch, "Some of the killing's already been done for ya. Anita's dead, she shot herself the same day that Ernest's lungs finally gave out on him and he took his last breath."

"Where's that son of a bitch at?" Brody asked in a cool, monotone voice and Cookie didn't have to ask who.

"In the house. The other hands are in the fields. You won't be bothered."

Brody nodded and without another word he headed for the house with LeRoy on his heels, "Brody, Jesus loves you. Don't do this. Revenge won't bring her back."

"You're either with me or against me, LeRoy, and if you get in my way, I'll kill you too."

"I ain't gonna get in your way, Brody," LeRoy assured him. This wasn't the Brody he remembered. This man was alive for one thing and that was revenge. Nothing was going to stop Brody from killing who he thought needed to be killed and God help those that stood in his way.

Brody walked into the house and didn't hesitate before walking up the stairs to Ernest's old office. He paused in the hallway remembering the day he'd carried Ernest to his room and the fire and intensity he'd felt from that feisty cowgirl he had loved so much. He squared his shoulders and kicked open the office door.

"What the hell?" Braxton shouted ,standing up and then all the color drained from his face as Brody crossed the room. Before Braxton could speak or comprehend what was happening Brody's fist came down hard on the big mans face and he fell to the ground in an unconscious heap.

***

The smell of burning wood brought Braxton back to consciousness. He looked around to find that he was still in the office but there was now a large fire roaring in the fireplace.

"I'm over here," Brody's voice came to him.

Braxton looked across the room and saw Brody standing there with pure hatred in his green eyes. The fire was reflecting on his face casting shadows across him as if he were Satan himself.

"What's going on?" Braxton demanded as he tried to get out of the chair and realized he was tied to it, "You're supposed to be dead!"

"I am dead, Braxton. And so is my wife."

"Wife...?" Braxton's eyes flew to the other man, a dirty, scarred up piece of work who was sitting in an armchair across the room with his hands folded as if deep in prayer or thought.

Brody snapped his fingers to bring Braxton's attention back to him. He picked up a branding iron and smiled coldly, "Yes, my wife. You killed her. You killed her just so you could have this ranch."

"No, I didn't kill anybody...."

"Shut-up!" Brody bellowed. He swung the branding iron and it hit Braxton hard in the face, causing a pain like he had never felt before. Braxton felt blood trickling down his cheek where his skin had been laid open.

"You're going to die today, Braxton. But before you do, you're going to do me a favor," Brody stepped closer to the fire and stuck the branding iron deep inside the flames.

"What do you want, Brody?" Braxton pleaded, "I'll give you whatever you want, just don't kill me."

"That's not part of the deal. You're dying."

"Then why the hell would I do anything for you?" Braxton demanded. He squared his shoulders and glared at Brody but quickly felt his bravado failing when he was met with Brody's ice cold gaze.

"Because I can cause you pain, Braxton. Lots of pain. I'm going to make you scream, just the way my wife screamed. I'm going to make you beg for your life the way she begged for mine."

Brody's voice was void of any emotion as he spoke and it sent a shiver down Braxton's spine, "But you're alive! Come on you barely knew the girl..."

"You're wrong. I'm dead. My soul died in that dust. It poured out of me just like my wife's blood poured out of her."

Braxton was nearly in tears now. He was going to die. "What do you want Brody. We can work a deal," he whimpered with desperation.

"You're a pathetic coward, but I'll deal with that later. First we get down to business." Brody grabbed a piece of paper off the desk and Braxton recognized the deed to the ranch, "You're going to write a note on the back of this deed, giving this ranch to me. You're going to sign and date it and my friend here is going to be witness."

"Go to hell!" Braxton spat, even as his bottom lip quivered with fear. He wasn't a tough man. He wasn't a fighter. He was a planner and a schemer. He hired men to do his dirty work for him.

Brody's lips formed a thin line and he grabbed the branding iron from the fire, "What are you doing?!" Braxton cried as Brody brought the red hot brand toward his face.

"You love this ranch so much, I'm gonna make sure the world knows it," Brody stuck the brand to Braxton's forehead and his pain filled screams echoed across the office as the smell of burning flesh overwhelmed the air.

"Jesus, Brody!" LeRoy exclaimed as Brody pulled the brand away and stuck it back in the fire, leaving Braxton whimpering and crying at the desk.

"Do you want more or will you write the damn note?"

Braxton nodded and Brody untied one of his hands from the chair. Braxton grabbed the pen and quickly wrote out the note Brody wanted, praying that somehow this would save him.

LeRoy came over and signed the note as a witness and Brody folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket, "Where's Grant?" Brody asked.

"I don't know." Braxton lied and Brody reached for the poker. "No please don't! Grant went to Virginia! I have his address!"

"Where?"

"Over there!" Braxton pointed to the filing cabinet.

Brody walked across the room and rifled through the papers until he found what he was looking for. He folded that paper as well and stuck it in his pocket.

Then he walked to Braxton and untied the mans other hand. Brody pulled his revolver from his gun belt and Braxton realized that Brody had taken his gun back. It was the .44 army colt with the rebel flag carving that he held in his hand.

"Outside," Brody said sternly.

"Why?" Braxton whimpered.

Brody stuck the gun against Braxton's burnt forehead and the man screamed in pain, "Outside," he hissed.

Braxton nodded and nearly stumbled over his feet in his haste to please the angry man. Maybe, just maybe, Brody would have mercy on him.

Cookie stepped out of the barn as Brody, Braxton and LeRoy came outside into the bright sunlight. Braxton cried out as the sunlight hit his freshly burned forehead and caused it to heat up and fill with a fiery pain. No one knew what Brody was up to when he pulled the extra gun from the waistband of his pants and handed it to Braxton before slipping his colt back into its holster, "It's your lucky day, Braxton. I'm feeling generous."

He turned his back on the man and Braxton licked his lips. No! He would not let Brody take this ranch, disfigure him and then walk away. He'd put a bullet in that mans back if that's what he had to do! He'd kill that ghost for good this time.

Brody heard the gun cock. He dropped to his knee and spun. The bullet missed him by a mile and Brody pulled his own gun and sent a bullet straight into Braxton's head, causing most of the mans face to disappear at such close range.

"Sorry about the mess, Cookie. You can run my ranch while I'm gone," Brody said as he holstered his revolver.

Cookie nodded and scratched at his white hair, "I'll make sure Braxton's idiot brother knows it was self defense. Braxton fired the first shot." Brody nodded his thanks. "Now go get the rest of those bastards responsible for taking that beautiful girl away from us."

Brody turned and strode toward his horse. He was little more than a walking corpse. He felt nothing. He felt no remorse, no happiness, no sense of triumph. He was dead inside. Brody Atkinson had died on the road that day, and all that was left was a hate filled shell of a man who had thought he'd finally found happiness, only to have it shot down right in front of him.

He gripped the cross hanging from his neck and silently vowed to Elizabeth that he'd avenge her death. One down, four to go.

"You gave the man a chance to defend himself. I knew you wasn't a cold blooded murderer," LeRoy said, sounding very relieved, as they rode away from the ranch.

"I promised Elizabeth, just before she died, that I wouldn't kill Braxton or Anita unless it was self defense. I always keep my word."

"What about the others?" LeRoy asked.

"Their names weren't never mentioned as part of the deal her and I made," Brody replied with a shrug. "So I figure I get a free pass on them." LeRoy shook his head and again prayed to God for his friends forgiveness.

***

"You can put the gun away, Mr. Atkinson. I do not need to be threatened at gunpoint. I can assure you that I am quite chicken enough to do whatever you want without the threat of violence," Attroney Paul Goddard's dry voice drolled.

Brody looked at the colt in his hand and then holstered it as he shrugged, "Sorry, it's a habit."

"So, what can I do for you?" Paul asked as he straightened his suit jacket and smoothed his thinning, slicked back hair.

Brody pulled his new hat down tighter on his head and then took the folded note from Braxton from his pocket and handed it to the attorney who pushed his thin framed glasses up on his nose and read it over.

"He gave you the ranch?"

"Yep."

"Willingly?" Paul asked with disbelief.

"Willingly enough."

Paul nodded quickly. He had no desire to fight with this man who was nearly a foot taller than him and clearly used to getting his way. "You were the witness?" he asked the other man who looked equally scary in appearance though was lacking the coldness in his eyes.

"Sure was," he replied.

"Okay then. I'll notarize this and have the deed reprinted in your name, Mr. Atkinson. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Paul asked, hoping that there wasn't and these men would leave his office.

"Yes. Did Ernest McCready leave anything to his daughter in his will?"

"That's hardly any of your business, sir." Paul replied.

Brody pulled the marriage document from his pocket and handed it to the attorney, feeling his heart crack anew as he looked at Elizabeth's delicate signature on the paper next to his. He remembered how she had smiled and teased him about being Mr. McCready as she had signed her new name.

Brody shook his head to clear the memories and pain away and filled himself back up with the hate that would get him through his current mission of vengeance.

"You were Elizabeth's husband." Paul stated with shock.

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry for you loss, Mr. Atkinson," Paul whispered sadly. He suddenly understood the man. It was well known what had happened on that ranch. It was well known that Braxton had directly led to the McCready girls death. Paul suddenly understood that look on Brody's face and he realized in that moment that Braxton was no longer alive.

Brody shifted his feet, "Me too."

Paul cleared his throat and handed the marriage document back to Brody, who folded it up as gently as if it was his most precious treasure, and put it back in his vest pocket, "Mr. McCready left a large sum of money in an account for his daughter. It has been sitting there, stuck in limbo, unable to be accessed by anyone since she died."

"I want it transferred to an account with my name on it. And then I want to sign something saying that if something happens to me, the money goes to a Jacob Atkinson in Harmony, Virginia."

"Of course. I will take care of that for you, Mr. Atkinson."

Brody nodded, "Just take your fee from the account. I need a hundred dollars cash from it too."

Paul tipped his head and walked around the two men, "Follow me to the bank and we'll take care of that."

Paul left the tiny office and Brody cursed the aching in his leg as he and LeRoy followed after the small, quick footed man.

***

"Let's ride out," Brody said as he and LeRoy finished filling their saddlebags with ammunition and supplies.

"Where we going?"

"I heard some men talking about the next man I'm looking for. He's been staying about a week's ride east of here in a little town called Gripton. That's where we're headed."

"LeRoy jumped into the saddle, "Alright then."

Brody was about to get on his own horse when Sheriff Willie's voice came from behind him, "You're under arrest, Brody."

Brody let out an irritated growl and turned around, sticking his thumbs through his belt loops and looking down his nose at the man who was standing twenty feet away, "Why's that?"

"Cold blooded murder."

"That was self defense, Sheriff. Just ask Cookie at the ranch. Or you can ask LeRoy here. They both witnessed what happened. I had my back turned and your yellow bellied, woman killer of a brother tried to put a bullet in me."

"Liar." Willie hissed.

"You look like you wanna pull that gun, Sheriff. Pull it. I dare you."

For a moment Brody thought maybe the weak-spined Sheriff was going to grow a pair but then he quickly took a step back and shook his head, "No. Maybe it was self defense," he muttered as he licked his lips nervously and his shifty eyes looked side to side.

Brody just shook his head with disgust and spit in the dirt in the Sheriff's direction, before mounting his horse and riding out of town with LeRoy beside him.