Corrigan by Cameron Judd

Author:Cameron Judd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Chapter 11

Tucker rode through the darkness, convinced he had done the wrong thing in leaving Charity alone in the line camp. What would Duke think when he came riding in, strictly against orders, leaving Charity alone and virtually defenseless in an abandoned cabin ten miles away?

Tucker felt guilty but kept riding. It had been a full day since he and Charity had set out from the ranch; surely Granger’s men had come by now if they were coming at all. Still, Tucker hoped he was not too late to give any help that might be needed.

It was almost pitch-black on the plains, the pale and misty moonlight giving the only illumination of the empty land. The plains seemed to swallow that thin light, drinking it in as if thirsty for it.

He recognized from the lay of the land that he was approaching the area of the ranch. Catching his breath in his throat and feeling a sudden racing of his pulse, he came to the top of the ridge and looked down at what lay beyond.

The barn was there, faintly outlined in the moonlight, standing as it always had at the perimeter of the ranch clearing. But the house …

A faint red glow rose from the smoldering coals that lay where the house had been. It was gone, entirely gone, burned right down to the foundation stones. Tucker’s heart sank. His pulse pounded at his throat. Immediately there came to mind an image of his father, lying there in his deathbed at the Crazy Woman ranch, waiting for Tucker to return with a young man he had not seen for seven years, a son perhaps now destined to never return.

Tucker feared Jack was dead. He morbidly wondered if his brother had died with a bullet in his head or a noose around his neck.

His head hanging, he moved down the dark and silent slope toward the smoldering corpse of a house that sent forth a faint red glow into the darkness. Tucker didn’t know just what he was searching for. Maybe nothing. But he wanted to be close to the place where he felt sure Jack had died.

Tucker brought his horse to a halt and dismounted. Silently he strode toward the remains of the house, then he stopped and knelt down into the dirt.

His fingers traced a line in the dirt, and he noticed the marks of horses’ hooves in the soft earth. He looked around. There were hoof marks everywhere, as if maybe as many as two dozen horses had thundered through the area. Granger’s men must have been a powerful force.

He stood and walked back to his waiting horse. The animal was tired, covered with a thin lather, but he would work it more this night. He was filled with a bitter desire to look into the eyes of a man who could order the murder of men who had in no way wronged him.

But Tucker had no idea where Granger’s ranch lay. Mounting his horse, he sat in the saddle for a moment, thinking.

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