“Please,” he added, wondering when he’d last said that word.
At his tone she turned around and walked to the cabin.Clint dismounted, went to the cabin and closed the door, then drew Rafe away from it.
“Jack Randall’s been shot.”
Rafe felt as if a bullet had punctured his own gut.“Dead?”
“Not yet, but he may well be now.I found him yesterday.He was unconscious with a bullet wound near the heart and a gash in the head.The doctor doesn’t know whether he’ll make it or not.”
“Did he say who did it?”
“He hadn’t regained consciousness when I left, but I put my money on McClary.According to one of the hands, McClary was at the ranch house when Randall returned from his search for you … and Miss Randall.No one’s seen him since.But if Randall doesn’t gain consciousness, you know who’s going to get the blame.”
Rafe stood stone-still.This was not what he’d wanted.He didn’t realize until this very moment how much he had depended on forcing a confession from Randall.Clearing his name—at least that one undeserved blot.
He glanced down at his hand.He closed his eyes, fighting waves of dark pain.He was there again, at the parade ground, everything being torn away from him as Jack Randall watched.He waited for the hate to cascade, shrouding him as it had for so long, but it didn’t.He just felt empty.So damn empty.
All of this for nothing.He steadied himself, thinking of Shea.She had come so far to get answers of her own.
He opened his eyes to see Clint’s concerned gaze, and not for the first time he wondered what he’d done to deserve this kind of loyalty.
“Will you take Miss Randall down with you?”he said.“She won’t say anything about this place or you or Ben.”
Clint nodded.
“And, Clint, you and Ben get the hell out of here.You and the others.It’s over.”
“He may not die.”
Rafe gave him a quizzical look.“With my luck?”
“What about McClary?”
Rafe shrugged.He wasn’t going say that McClary was unfinished business.The brothers would insist on staying with him.“He’s probably at least a state away from here.”
“Russ Dewayne is talking about a posse.”
“More reason for you to leave this area.No one’s seen you with me.No one knows about you.”
“The girl does,” Clint said.
“Another reason you should leave.She won’t say anything on purpose but she could slip.She’s not a very good liar.”He saw Clint’s bemused look and realized his voice had softened, betraying more than he’d intended.
But Clint only nodded.“I’ll wait and see whether Randall survives.”He hesitated.“And what Russ Dewayne’s plans are.”
Rafe heard Clint’s reluctance, and that all-too-familiar guilt rocketed around inside him again.Clint had mentioned the sheriff’s daughter before.Rafe knew what it must be costing him to lie to people he liked.
“No more risks,” Rafe said.“Not for me.”
“We’ve started something.It’s hard to let go.”
“It’s my battle, Clint, and now it appears to be over.I don’t want any more casualties.”
“I know it’s not what you wanted.”
Rafe shrugged.It had been a long time since he’d gotten what he wanted.He needed to cut his losses now.Free the men who had followed him.Free Shea Randall.
But if Randall died, Rafe would never be free.He doubted now whether it would make any difference.What was done was done.The brand would remain with him.The memory of prison.
