The McEllis Boys

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

Jamison looked down at Hallie's sleeping face, illuminated in the moonlight and he smiled. She was so beautiful. Not in the traditional sense of the word with her flyaway red hair, dark freckles and the small gap between her front teeth, but she was the single most breathtaking sight Jamison had ever seen.

He couldn't believe he'd been so foolish for so long. So many years of his life had been spent only worrying about himself and what he wanted. He had ignored what his mother wanted, he had ignored what Hallie wanted and he had ignored what Cavanaugh needed. But that Jamison was gone now. Now he had a wife whom he loved more than life itself and he was going to catch the people who had taken so much from his brother and he was going to catch them tonight.

Call it gut instinct but he knew that after several days of him and Hallie staying in this house, it was all going to come to a head tonight. Tonight would be the night that Crenshaw sent his man, or men, to get rid of them the same way he had them after Leah and the kids.

He hated to tell the men but they wouldn't be so lucky this time. They wouldn't have gotten so lucky enough last time if they hadn't ambushed Cavanaugh from behind. Cavanaugh might be the most self controlled of all of them but he was also the quickest drawing, straightest shooting and toughest of them if the fact that he buried his family while suffering blood loss and a broken leg was any indication.

Jamison knew that Hallie would be angry at him for letting her sleep while he dealt with the threat that he knew was coming but he would just let her be angry. He loved her far too much to let her be down in harms way. He gently kissed her sleeping brow and then stood. He kept a rifle beside her bed, knowing that she also had her revolver beneath her pillow. That should be enough protection.. Just in case.

Jamison left the room and silently closed the door behind him. He slipped down the hall and the steps to the kitchen. He went to the farthest corner and lit a lantern before setting it on the countertop. He went back into the dark living room, he had a clear view of the yard through the window, and the kitchen through the doorway. He settled down on the dust covered sofa with his rifle in his lap and waited.

Hours passed and Jamison was beginning to wonder if he'd lost his gut instinct when he heard a horse snort out front. Since he knew his and Hallie's horses were out back in the barn, he knew this horse belonged to someone else. He looked out the window and his eyes fell on a single man. The moonlight was shining on him and Jamison knew it was the ranch hand that had watched them so closely just days ago and he also knew the man was alone.

Jamison watched him sneak around to the kitchen door and Jamison stood and moved silently toward the kitchen. The ranch hand came bursting in the door with his gun drawn but then confusion filled his face when no one was sitting at the table where the light was shining.

"I'm over here, you bastard," Jamison growled and he swung his rifle and brought the butt of it down hard on the ranch hands head. The man slumped to the ground and Jamison just chuckled as he leaned his rifle against the wall and walked over to the opposite wall to get the lasso that Cavanaugh had left hanging there when he'd left all those years ago. He didn't want to kill the bastard because he needed to ask him some things about Maxwell Crenshaw.

He barely had time to realize there was movement behind him and he turned quickly and found himself staring at the barrel of his own rifle, being held in the hands of the bleeding man, "You should have hit me harder," the man sneered as he weaved on his feet.

Jamison was about to draw his revolver and hope his reflexes would be faster than the addled mans when Hallie's voice from behind the man, "Thanks for the tip."