“I wish I could give you a safe home. A good home, where we are not constantly displaced, or in danger, or being threatened,” she sobbed. Then she looked up at the ceiling.
“Dear God! When will this all end? When will we be able to live in peace without all these constant dangers and risks? Life is hard enough as it is, but all this? I don’t know how much more my heart can take!”
As if Tinsel understood her distress, she put her head over Madelaine’s shoulder and pulled her body against her neck. Madelaine sobbed all of her sorrows into Tinsel’s mane.
Chapter Thirty-One
Luke was on his way to the barn to look for Madelaine when he smelled smoke. With all the fireplaces being lit inside the house, this wasn’t anything special, and he didn’t pay attention to it at first—but then he saw black clouds billowing into the sky toward the north—exactly where Stevensville was.
There was yelling and shouting in the distance, echoing all across the valley. When he heard the first shots, he turned and ran toward the barn to get Madelaine out of there. Timothy and Caleb came storming out of the house, clearly seeing and hearing the same things he did.
“We need to get to Stevensville! Something’s happening there!” Luke shouted back at them. Both men immediately went back inside the house to grab their coats and weapons. Caleb brought Luke’s rifle as he and Timothy ran toward him and Madelaine coming out of the barn.
“Hurry! Get inside the house!” Luke yelled to Madelaine as he took his rifle and turned back to ready the horses. “Watch for any movement! If you see anything, get out of there!” Luke instructed her.
“Mary knows what to do and where to go,” Timothy assured him as he followed him to saddle his own horse, and Luke nodded, grateful to hear that.
“That is good to know, Timothy! That is very good to know,” he said, before the three men rushed to get going.
They rode like wild men, kicking their horses into the fastest gallop they could sustain to reach the outskirts of town as quickly as possible.
What awaited them was absolute chaos and Bedlam.
Several buildings had been set on fire, including the sheriff’s office, the barber’s, the bank, the general store, and even the saloon. People were running and screaming everywhere, shop owners tried to save their businesses, but most large windows had been shot through or shattered. Townsfolk were crisscrossing roadways without real direction, buggies and carriages racing down the streets, and lose animals—including some livestock—stumbling around aimlessly.
Then, Luke noticed the riders waving guns and holding bottles filled with kerosene and burning cloths, ready to be thrown at the next target. They were whistling, howling, cheering, and shooting randomly into the air.
It was utter mayhem.
“We need to split up!” Luke yelled at Caleb and Timothy. “We need to gather as many men as we can get to fight back! This is happening now!”
Both of them nodded, and each man darted off in a different direction. Luke was just about to ride east when he saw a fancy-looking fur coat appear between the bank and the sheriff’s office.
Ezra Blackthorn.
He seemed taller than Luke remembered from the night he’d seen him at the camp. Ezra was a good-looking man with sharp features, well-groomed blond hair, and piercing blue eyes, the color of frozen lake water. His elegant clothing, which was clearly of the highest quality, gave away his wealth. His evil grin gave away his character. As he walked out, he spread his arms as if he wanted to show that he was unarmed, which was the oddest thing.
“Luke Cross!” he called out to him, as he slowly walked out into the street, tilting his head to one side. “Nice to make your acquaintance!” he said, and Luke could hear the thick sarcasm lacing every single word.
Luke thought to himself that his behavior was very strange. Too confident, too brazen, too self-assured, and kind of insane—after all, Luke could shoot him right here and now. This man couldn’t possibly be in his right mind.
Then he watched as several men surrounded him, armed to the teeth, holding pistols in each hand, still carrying rifles on their backs and knives strapped to their thighs and belts. Therewere at least thirty of them, forming a loose shield around their leader. Luke immediately recognized Lucas among the group. Ezra watched Luke intently from a fair distance, licking his lips and laughing a menacing laugh.
Luke heard Phineas somewhere high above him, shouting from a rooftop, trying to gather a crowd to rile them up against him. “There he is! There’s the man responsible for this! It’s all his fault this town is being terrorized! We warned him! He risked it anyway!”
Most townsfolk were preoccupied, and not many paid any attention to this poor excuse of a man. Luke chose to ignore his escapades for now. He’d deal with Phineas later if he got the chance.
“What is your plan, Ezra?” Luke called out, just as Caleb came to a stop next to him.
“What’s happening here?” Caleb asked, looking up at Phineas, who was still spewing lies from the rooftop, before he turned around to stare at Ezra.
“This is the leader of the gang we’ve been looking for,” Luke informed Caleb with grinding teeth. Caleb immediately pulled his two pistols out of their holsters.
Timothy joined them from the other side, stopping his rearing horse in a neck-breaking maneuver. “I got as manymen as I could, but the town is in utter chaos,” he declared, mirroring Caleb’s move by pulling out two pistols, cocking both simultaneously. Luke did the same.
What happened next was not completely unexpected, but it was surprising, nonetheless. Less than fifteen men showed up to join Luke, Caleb, and Timothy. They were outnumbered. It would be two against one.
“Well. Well. Well,” Ezra laughed from his safe position. “What isyourplan, Luke Cross? You will need one if you want to get out of this dilemma,” he scoffed dismissively, and some of his men joined in his laughter.
