Dead Man's Switch (The Dominion Falls Series Book 10)

Dead Man’s Switch

The Dominion Falls Series 10

Sarah Cass

Historical Romance

Romantic Suspense

Historical Western Romance

A Divine Roses Ink Book

Historical Romance

Romantic Suspense

Historical Western Romance

Copyright © 2023 Sarah Cass

First publication: February 2024

Cover design by Sarah Cass

Edited by Megan Koenen

Proofread by Mary Terrani

All cover art and logo copyright © 2023 by Sarah Cass

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Divine Roses Ink

http://www.divinerosesink.com

Other Books in

The Dominion Falls Series

Independent Brake

Changing Tracks

Derailed

Dark Territory

Green Eye

Runaway Train

Home Signal

Red Zone

Chasing the Red

Blizzard Lights

Coming Soon in

The Dominion Falls Series

Bird Cage

A Highball Arrangement

Blood

Grave Digger

Bad Order

Books by Sarah Cass

The Tribe Series

The Tribe

The Wolf

The Chief

The Raven

The Lake Point Series

Santa, Maybe

Deep-Fried Sweethearts

Stalled Independence

Witch Way

A Thorough Thanksgiving

Eve’s New Year

Heartstrings & Hockey Pucks

Luck of the Cowgirl

Stars, Stripes & Motorbikes

Free Falling

Love for Hire

Haunted Hearts

Stand Alone Novels

Masked Hearts

Leap

Dedication

To my family,

Who support me,

Even when they think it’s weird.

Be proud. Be weird.

Be your unique selves.

Always

Jane stood before the mirror in her room. They’d arrived in Holle Creek early that morning. She’d longed to immediately go seek out Cole, but Charlie had convinced her she needed rest. It hadn’t taken much to convince her, really, the journey had left her exhausted and weak. So she’d climbed into the terrible bed in the morose boarding house to attempt rest.

She’d obtained promises from both her brothers that they wouldn’t go seek out Cole prematurely and give him warning of their arrival. She wanted to be there herself the first time he realized he’d been found.

After a nap in a bed only passably more comfortable than her hay pile in the wagon, her body still ached. Still, she felt more refreshed for the sleep.

She’d put on a subdued green dress. The cloak she’d brought nearly matched the color, so she’d wear that. She pinned her hat in place with minimal shaking to her hands. A strange mix of excitement and fear tangled her nerves taut as though she hadn’t just slept.

Put back together into a semblance of human again, it was time to face whatever she might find. After she’d sent a telegram to Katherine assuring their family they’d arrived in Holle Creek safe and sound.

Seeing as she’d entrusted the carrying of the bulk of their funds and important paperwork to her brothers in the next room, her own room sat sparse. She’d packed only a few dresses, two cloaks, and a muffler for the coldest days.

Sunshine filtered weakly through the curtains. The day was drab, much like the town had seemed on first glance. There appeared to be no wind blowing, so she imagined she’d be fine without the muffler.

After a deep breath, she smoothed her hand over the swell of the baby. Shall we send word home and see if we can find your pa?

No response came from the child within. Not even a kick. When she’d been lying down the child had been quite active, so she didn’t worry. Well, let’s go then.

Jane gathered her cloak and gloves from the bed on her way out. She locked the door behind her before knocking on the next room’s door.

Charles pulled the door open. He offered her a warm smile and waved her in. Unlike her room, this room remained a disorganized mess. Nick had papers lying on the bed, more on the desk. His traveling case remained closed on a chair. Charles’ smile grew wan at her look. Nick decided to get right to work instead of unpacking his things.

This is a shock. I never imagined you to be such a messy sort, Nicholas. Jane surveyed the room. The half untouched by the mass of papers was neat as a pin, much as her own small room. Not that she had much in it to make it messy. Is this why you’ve never allowed me in your home?

It isn’t a matter of allowing such a thing. There’s never been an occasion. Nick straightened a pile of papers, then set them aside. I’m reviewing James’ work on these divorce papers. He’d done as you asked, if that’s what you still desire.

I do. Especially after the inheritance I just received. I have no idea what we’ll find here, and I need to protect myself. Jane kissed his cheek when he rose to greet her properly. I’m going to head next door to the telegraph office to alert the family we’ve arrived safe. After that, I thought I might walk through the town.

Give me a few minutes and I can join you. Charles stepped over Nick’s carpet bag toward his side of the room.

Nonsense. She’d managed to stop him with the simple word, thankfully. Expecting an argument, she pressed on. I’ll be thirty minutes at most. There won’t be any trouble. This town is hardly the size of Dominion Falls.

You said yourself you have no idea what we’ll find here. Nick kept his sharp gaze on her. His eyes so similar to her own were heavy and dark with suspicion. We don’t know it’s safe.

We saw nary a soul when we arrived. Wagons in towns this small usually draw crowds and we only saw one or two people. She tried to smile reassuringly. I don’t think me taking a short walk will be an issue.

Do you have your Remington, at least?

Do you see it? Jane lifted her arms. She still hadn’t donned the cape which would cover her holster. It’s one little walk. I will hardly shoot Cole on sight, even if the temptation exists.

Charlie frowned. We don’t know what’s happening here.

True. She pondered the necessity of returning to her room for her holster. The idea held merit. I can’t imagine I’d need it for a short walk. Do you?

At the very least, take this. Nick pulled a small weapon from the coat he’d hung over his chair. It’s only useful at close range but it could help you get away from a bad situation.

She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the Derringer. Nicholas.

Take it, or go get yours. Nick met her gaze meaningfully. If it helps, it isn’t the same one.

It doesn’t. She knew he referred to the weapon that had killed Alan Bingham. To that day only herself and Nick knew whom had truly pulled the trigger that night. Cole didn’t even know. For that matter, it was one secret Tom wasn’t privy to. With a sigh, she took the Derringer.

Don’t put it in your reticule, Charlie called from his side of the room. You won’t be able to get to it quickly enough if you need it.

With a frown, she slipped it into her left pocket. Fine, fine.

You know what to do if you run into trouble. Nick turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

Whistle. Jane nodded to Charlie seeing as he was the only one looking at her. She stepped from the room and swung her cape around her shoulders. On the way out, she noticed the gentleman manning the desk no longer stood at his post. Seemed odd at first. Then again, she didn’t imagine this town got enough visitors to warrant standing sigil all of the time. There was likely plenty of warning before anyone came upon the mountain.

She stepped out into the chilly, dimly lit day. Sunlight struggled against the heavy swath of clouds offering nothing in the way of warmth. As she’d suspected there was no wind to add to the chill in the air.

The telegraph office sat two doors down. She made it there quickly through the empty street. Inside, she grabbed the pencil and paper. I’d like to see this sent to Katherine Daughtery in Dominion Falls, Colorado please.

The weaselly young man behind the counter sneered at the telegram. Thirty cents.

Of course. Jane withdrew the funds from her reticule. She slid them across the counter toward him. He made no move to collect the funds or message. Now, please. I’ll wait here while you send it.

He huffed and snatched the paper away. Hunched over the key he sent a series of clicks and pauses. There.

No, sir. I asked you to send the telegraph, not put out a notice you were stepping away from the key. Jane stared him down. The dark look he cast her gave her plenty of suspicion as to where her own missives had disappeared, and Cole’s if he’d sent any. The woman you’re sending that to is a dear friend and happens to help run the telegraph. She’s taught me much about the code you use. Please, try again.

Once she’d heard the entire message send, she spun to leave the office without a word of appreciation. On the porch, she paused. The town boasted two saloons on the main road, each with a smattering of whores. It stood to reason Cole could be at either getting a drink.

The store straight down the road from her drew her gaze most, though. Cole had said his old father-in-law lived in and ran the store. The man had known where Cole had ended up and sent him an occasional missive. Perhaps she’d find Cole there instead of a saloon. Maybe the older man was ailing and Cole had been caring for him.

Maybe too hopeful for her current state, but she needed that shot of hope. After all, it was clear Cole wasn’t in the small boarding house. Her and her brothers were the only guests there.

Right as she made up her mind to try the store, a figure emerged. Tall, muscular, every inch of the man drew her eye and called her heart. She gasped at the way her heart stuttered to a stop for a moment or two. Though he limped, everything about the way he moved was familiar. Her hand drifted to her heart when it sputtered to life only to race to fast she felt dizzy. She whispered, Cole.

For a moment in time, he stood suspended. He had to have spotted her, for he was looking right at the office where she stood. Two steps toward her, features still shadowed by his Stetson so she couldn’t read his expression.

A weak whistle carried through the air, and Cole turned toward his left. A heartbeat later his scream of Ella hit her like a physical blow. Ella? His wife? She backed against the window when a woman leaped into Cole’s arms.

Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no. Jane tore out from the porch toward the boarding house. Right as she’d made it to the cover of the saloon across from the boarding house, she skid to a stop. Out of sight of him and his—his wife—she leaned against the wall. The world spun around her, her vision growing blurry again. No, no, no.

She tried to get a rein on the panic coursing through her veins. A headache bloomed across her skull despite her best efforts. Short breaths did little to ease her nerves. The first familiar stirrings of hysteria burrowed into her ears with a sharp buzzing. Charles. Must get…Oh.

Her hand braced against the wall as she did her best to catch her breath. Somehow she managed to steady her breathing until the buzzing in her ears eased. Dizziness edged backward until she felt steady again. The headache clung stubbornly, though.

First, she had to see Charles. Then she would deal with the matter at hand. She straightened to return to the boarding house only to find a gun pointed right at her. Jane lifted her gaze further up the tall man’s features, finding them unsettlingly familiar. Her brain raced to put the pieces together as she faced this man that looked so startlingly like her husband. You must be the deceased Paul Spencer.

I am. When her gaze drifted toward the windows of the boarding house he clicked his tongue. Uh-uh. There’ll be none of that. Come on, now. He clearly didn’t care what happened to the other wife, maybe he’ll care what happens to you.

Jane moved her hand toward her pocket, and the Derringer it held. A hand gripped her arm. She was spun around to find another stranger glaring at her. He also had a familiar visage, though mostly in the startling eyes that held more icy malice than she’d seen in Cole. She shook her head, now confused. What? Who?

He shoved aside her cape, his eyes widening. Son of a bitch, she’s gonna have his kid.

Even better, said Paul. Let’s get her out of sight of the boarding house and check her for weapons. I’ll take care of her, and you can get back to check on your dear ma.

Like he’d believe that. I’ll get back to the saloon, is what I’ll do. The young man dragged her toward the woods. She didn’t dare fight knowing there was a weapon trained on her. If he’d release her left arm for a simple two seconds she could get the Derringer. With two of them, that wouldn’t increase her odds any. Damn her for not choosing to return to her room to get her holster with the two weapons it contained.

She was brought to a stop near a horse sheltered in the woods.

Check for weapons. Paul leaned against a tree almost casually. His weapon didn’t waver one second from her personage. He was clearly used to being listened to. How?

Jane turned her attention to the young man, thinking over how it was possible. Perhaps he was Paul’s boy? Paul had referred to his ma, and the younger had scoffed derisively saying ‘he’ wouldn’t believe he’d care to check on her.

Could they mean Ella? But how? Cole had been certain she’d died, and he’d seen her grave before he left town. Then again, Clara Young lay buried, too. Her cross still sat in the town cemetery.

The boy found her weapon quickly and pocketed it. Thankfully his check of her reticule was little more than perfunctory. He left her with all but a couple of small gold nuggets she could certainly live without. Everything else he left in place. Hopefully it would come in handy, seeing as she had no idea what this man was about to do with her.

She stared hard at the unknown young man. And who are you? Or do I not get to know who’s aiding in my kidnapping?

He eyed her in suspicion. Names Jimmy.

Ah. Colton James Spencer. She named you after your pa, then. She imagined he wondered over her calm state. To be honest, she did as well. Her headache still beat against her skull, but her panic stayed at bay. Then again, even though the Derringer had been taken she still had another at her disposal. So long as she kept use of her hands, it was still going to help.

That bitch did nothing.

Jane quirked a brow at his dark insistence. Funny how it was so similar to how Cole had always spoken of his pa. She turned her attention back to Paul. There was no telling quite how much the man knew. She went with what she did. The papers, when they had come, had been from Colton Spencer, not Cole. Could Paul not even know truly who his son had become? This is pointless. My lawyer is better than whatever you used to send Colton’s divorce decree. He doesn’t have a dime to his name any longer. Or at least not by tomorrow.

Paul tossed a length of rope from the saddle to James. Tie her hands behind her back, then it’s on the horse with you.

She took a long step back from the approaching James. No.

Don’t got much say, do ya? James smiled coldly.

I see that, however you cannot tie my hands behind my back.

Paul’s eyes narrowed. We will.

If you expect me to get on that horse with this baby, you can’t tie my hands behind my back. I’ll never be able to maneuver. She raised her hands when James took a menacing step forward. If you bully me on there I could lose the child. The pregnancy has not been easy. You lose the baby, you lose your only bargaining chip. Clearly by that letter of divorce I’m not worth much to Colton.

Paul seemed to consider her words. He gave one short nod. In front then. I’ll switch it when we get where we’re going.

Jane folded her hands together, flexing the wrists and Tommy had taught her so she’d gain some flexibility of movement. When the rope pulled tight she flinched, but kept her wrists as flexed as possible.

On her way toward the horse, she had a passing thought to kick James on her way up. Only the fact that both of them now had one weapon each to her none kept her from following through. Instead, she grabbed the pommel with her right hand, hefting her foot into the stirrup.

With a bounce as though trying to get into the saddle she twisted her wrists so her left hand arched toward her. On the next bounce she pulled herself close enough to get her fingers in her mouth and blew a harsh whistle. It rang loud and clear through the trees, carrying far as it always had.

Damn it, Paul cursed. Moments later a hard blow landed to the back of her head throwing her into darkness. Her body crashed to the ground with a pained groan and her grip on consciousness faded to black.

Sally settled back against the furs as the cutter flew over the snow. A soft sigh escaped her restraints. She ignored the look Patrick cutter as she watched the scenery fly by. They’d been on a ride out near to the Edward’s ranch and were on their way back to town.

The day was lovely, though cold. Their ride had been spontaneous, a way to pass some time in the middle of the day. She was a little sad it was over, especially seeing as she had a very busy night ahead of her. With Ma now gone, too, she was covering the casino and brothel even more often than she had in recent weeks. She was due to cover the casino for a few hours that afternoon, in fact.

Coupled with the investigation, which she’d been working on whenever she could, it was lovely that Patrick had suggested the ride. Mams had insisted she go and have a little leisure.

Don’t tell me my imminent departure has sparked those feelings of deep adoration I know you’ve been suppressing. Patrick’s tone and matching grin hinted at teasing.

I’ll not deny I’ll miss the pleasure of your company. She allowed him a warm smile. I have no idea where to begin to find another way to wile away some time within this town.

That young man we just spotted seemed to enjoy the view when you passed.

Matthew Coleman? Sally glanced behind them to the ranch now barely visible. She shook her head, a low chuckle forming at the very idea. Yes, he was handsome and had caught her eye on the rare occasion she’d seen him. However, I don’t know that he has ever courted a soul. I don’t believe he would know how to handle a relationship such as ours.

And what of your friend Andrew?

Hopelessly enamored with miss Bonnie. Matthew’s sister, actually. Sally wrinkled her nose. Besides, I don’t see him as anything other than a friend.

I’m no more than a friend. Neither is Molly.

Touché, Mr. Warner.

I’m curious, then. If it isn’t my leaving, though I know it wounds you more than you dare say to me.

She nudged his ribs, laughing outright. Oh, stop. I’ve never known a more dramatic man than you can be sometimes.

He laughed with her. Fine, fine. Tell me what brought on such a sigh. One that seemed to come from the very depths of your soul?

She cut him a look at his continuing dramatics.

In all seriousness.

Nothing. Everything. Sally eyed the settlement as they passed by. She would need to see about making the supply run this week with Kat in Jane’s stead. I’m worried about Ma and Pa. Archie is still in danger. We lost Hammy, for heaven’s sake. I don’t know what this town will be without him.

He is but one man. Now who is being dramatic?

You hadn’t the pleasure of truly getting to know him as we all have over the years. A kinder man has never been seen in this life or the next. They drew close to the meadow. The skeletal remains of the church stuck out of the snow. She set her hand on Patrick’s arm. Swing by the old church, would you?

It’s little more than ash and snow now. Despite his protest, Patrick pulled the rein to guide the cutter toward the rubble. He slowed near where the blackened wood marred the blanket of pure white. I’m not quite certain where the edge of it is, actually.

Right over there is where the steps were. Sally tossed aside the furs to hop out. What had been the church sat buried in the knee deep snow. The plans were to rebuild at the other end of the meadow. A similar, but larger, building. The last thing Hammy had done was to get the plans approved.

What, pray tell, are we doing? He’d also disembarked the cutter. Despite his finery, he trudged through the snow on a new path rather than follow Sally’s.

I’m not certain. She set her hand on a beam that stuck straight up out of the snow. By now all evidence had been trampled, melted, or buried in snow. Perhaps all three. She eyed the empty space where they’d gathered for service every week for years. In the past few years the church had overflowed with parishioners. Good people, led by a good Reverend. Men of God.

What?

Sally’s mind raced over her notes. She could picture the large swath of butcher paper much clearer than her notebook. Something clicked in her brain, and she emitted a squeal of surprise. Oh my.

Sally?

She rushed back toward the cutter. Let’s get back, and hurry. I must speak with Tommy.

Where is he? I haven’t seen Thomas in nearly a week. He didn’t hesitate at her rudely barked command. His composure in place, he even kindly tucked the furs back over her that she’d ignored in her haste.

Oh. Ma got in a snit and kicked him out. He’s been staying at the clinic. Come to think of it, though. Sally scooted forward in her seat. Anxiety clawed its way through her belly as she pondered when the last time she’d seen Tommy.

Patrick eyed her as the cutter slid along the homes on Main to circle around to the corral behind the hotel. Come to think of what?

I haven’t seen him in several days, either. I’ve only now realized, I’ve been so busy.

Then be off. Patrick pulled the cutter to a stop behind the brothel without hesitation. You sound worried.

It isn’t like him to not check on me, Sally admitted.

I’ll see to the cutter.

Are we still on for tonight? Half-distracted, Sally was already one leg out of the cutter. Tommy’s recent threat to take a job and leave town reared in her memory.

You, myself, and Molly at the brothel. Eight sharp.

Sally freed herself from the last of the furs. Quick as possible in the deep snow she cut down the alley toward Main Street. On her run to the clinic, she spotted Kat rushing toward the hotel. They both stopped simultaneously as they spotted each other. Kat?

It’s your ma. She’s sent a telegram. They arrived safe in Holle Creek. Kat’s grin grew brighter. That means we know they can get telegrams through.

Sally wasn’t sure whether to be happy or upset by that information. After all, if telegrams were coming through, why hadn’t Cole sent more?

Odd thing was, Kat continued seemingly oblivious to Sally’s consternation. The missive arrived almost immediately after the operator said he was stepping away.

Really? Sally pondered that tidbit. Seemed odd that the telegraph operator would say he was stepping away only to send Ma’s message. She might have walked in right as he was heading out for an errand. It still rang as queer to her. I’ll pass the word onto Tommy.

Thanks.

Sally continued her run toward the clinic as Kat rushed into the Inn. Without a word to Dr. Noe where she sat behind the desk, Sally raced up the stairs to room ten. She pounded on the door heartily. Tommy! I've got news.

No answer came. Sally frowned at the silent door. Perhaps he’d gone to see Leanne for a few days. He was probably bored without the hotel to manage. Or maybe he was playing deputy today. She hadn’t thought of either of those possibilities.

Tommy? She knocked again even though she knew he’d have answered by now if he was in.

Sally turned away, pondering where to try first. Then she stopped, another twinge in her gut making her turn back.

Trust your gut, Tommy had always told her. If something seems off, it usually is.

She reached toward the doorknob. Tommy kept his door locked more than even Cole had once upon a time.

The knob turned easily. Unlocked. Her stomach fluttered with worry, or nerves.

She pushed the door all the way open. While not as barren as his room at the Inn, she noticed his pack and a good number of his weapons were gone. Damn it, Tommy. No. Tell me you didn’t leave. Not without saying something.

Since he wasn’t there to protest, she moved further into the room. He’d added no life to it, but then again the same could be said of his room at the Inn. Much like Molly’s hotel room, it felt like they always had one foot out the door. Ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

He must have taken a job. Done so without so much as a bye or leave. He’d told her she could handle the job, and she was doing fine with Molly’s support. Then he and Ma had fought, or rather Ma had fought, Tommy had acquiesced without a peep. That was supposed to mean he’d stick around and help.

Now he was gone. Just gone.

She glared at the room as if it were its fault. Ass.

When she turned to leave, she spotted a piece of paper on the pillow. With a glance around like he’d set a trap and was ready to jump out of the wardrobe, she swiped the note.

Sally,

I knew your nosy self would be up here soon enough. I’m off on a job. Can’t tell you what it is or where, it’s best certain people don’t know. I’ll leave you with this—I’ve never been good at listening to orders.

Take the notebook under my pillow. It’s got all of my notes on your case.

Yes, YOUR case. Don’t give me that look.

Trust your instincts and your memory. Use Molly. Lock up when you leave. It shouldn’t have taken you this long to get in here. Hope none of my guns got taken.

Best,

Uncle Tommy

Sally slid her hand under the pillow to withdraw the notebook. After a reread of the note, she stared around the room again. Where could you have gone?

She exhaled long and slow on her way down to sit on the edge of the bed. Now what was she to do? Without Tommy or Ma around to tell her if she was being crazy, she’d never know if her ideas were too outlandish.

Trust your instincts. She scoffed as the words mirrored the recent memory of him telling her to trust her gut. Easier said than done.

A knock on the door startled a shriek out of her. Andrew’s mouth twitched in amusement. Oblivious to her flustered state, or completely aware, he let his grin form. Hello to you, too.

Andrew Cross, you scared the devil clean out of me.

Good thing too. You’ve got too much devil in you for decency.

You rotten friend. She laughed despite her attempt at a fit of temper.

Dr. Noe said you came racing through the lobby without so much as a word. I was concerned and wanted to be assured you were in no distress. Am I to guess by that banshee shriek that you are, or you aren’t?

Yes.

What? Andrew’s grin flickered toward outright laughter. He remained respectfully at the door. Where is your uncle? Why are you in here without him?

He’s out. Sally tucked the note in the book on her way to the door. She tugged it shut behind her. Once she’d made sure it had locked, she laced her arm with his. Tell me, dear Andrew. How much do you enjoy the detective work behind your autopsies?

I’ve always found it interesting. Why?

I need a fresh perspective. While we talk, you can show me how to test for other chemicals. A lesson and a chat rolled into one. Will that do?

I would enjoy it immensely.

Wonderful.

Cole shoved his clothes into his pack haphazardly on top of the copy of Leaves of Grass Jane had sent with him. He had no idea why Paul had returned Ella, but he didn’t have time to care. Now that she was back, he had to get them both out as as soon as possible. If he had to steal a horse and drag Ella kicking and screaming down the mountain. When he left the storeroom, Ella was once again digging through the drawers.

He pulled out his knife and knelt in front of the desk. Two weeks before he’d finally gained access to the desk, but had done so carefully. Inside he’d found that Richard had left the care of Ella, James, and the store to him. Paul wouldn’t find any of that worth anything, so he’d left it aside. His pa had taken the financials of it. The savings box was thoroughly cleaned out. Whether by James or Paul, he didn’t know.

No longer caring if Paul knew he’d managed to get into the desk, he stuck his knife into the lock and broke it clean off. With it free at last, he pulled out all the papers and shoved them into his bag. With a glance at Ella, he called to her. Lydia’s upstairs. Let’s go.

He raced up the stairs ahead of her. She dug through the dresser he pointed to as a distraction. He pulled her bed away from the wall. The loose floorboard still meshed with the rest, which gave him hope Paul hadn’t discovered his hiding place.

With the same knife he pried the floorboard up to reveal his money pouch. He pulled the funds free, giving them a quick count to ensure every dollar he had left was accounted for.

A sharp whistle cut through town. Cole knew that whistle all too well. His eyes widened. "Shit. They are here."

Cole shoved his money into his bag, replaced the floorboard, and shoved the bed back in place. He took a firm grasp of Ella’s thin wrist. We gotta go. Come on, Ella.

Where, what? She yelped as he tugged her down the stairs.

Each pounding step of his feet down the stairs aggravated the pain in his wound, but he didn’t dare stop. The whistle had been the whistle of a Young, usually when there was danger. Maybe they’d spotted him and were alerting each other to end the search.

He yanked Ella out of the store and down the steps. In the distance he saw two familiar figures heading his way. Relief flooded through him. Charlie! Nick!

The pair made a beeline for him. Before Cole could say a word, Nick sprinted forward and dealt and uppercut to his chin. Cole’s teeth rattled together. His grasp on Ella released as he stumbled. Another hit came to his jaw, nearly flattening him completely.

Cole bent over as the pain radiated through his jaw. After a shuddering breath he stood with no plans on retaliation. He likely deserved it. Hell, he knew he did. Before Ella could wander off, he grabbed her wrist again. He glanced between the brothers. Which of you whistled?

We didn’t. Charlie folded his arms across his chest. It was a relief that he didn’t attack as Nick had. Cole didn’t think his jaw could take another hit, deserved or not.

You didn’t—where’s Jane? Cole spun in a circle, but she was nowhere to be seen.

That’s what we’d like to know. Nick’s gaze was fierce, but at least he didn’t move to hit him again. Yet. The possibility lingered in the fierce darkness in his gaze.

"Fuck." Cole stared at minute at Ella before looking into the woods. Paul had taken her from their old home before Cole could find her one night she’d wandered off. He’d had her for a week God-knew-where out in the woods. Cole’s ability to search was limited by his injury and lack of horse. He’d returned Ella. Cole had wondered why. He couldn’t believe Paul had found her so quickly. It wasn’t possible.

Colton, Ella whimpered.

I told you to stop calling me that. Cole narrowed his eyes toward the saloon a short way down the street. For a second he could have sworn he’d seen Jimmy at the door.

Colton? Nick frowned toward Ella.

Cole ignored him. Wasn’t she armed?

She had one of Nick’s Derringers. Charlie stared at the woman Cole fought to keep in place before she ran off in search of Lydia again. She kept muttering about their lost child, then talking of darkness. Charlie’s gaze didn’t soften, but took on