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sight of her son’s mutilated body.”

“Ms. Montgomery has a steel backbone. As long as you’re up-front with her, she can handle anything. But Dr. Fraser, I could never use force to restrain her.”

“Ye’ll do what ye have to do.” Elliott held on to Paul’s arm as he stood. “I have to go, but I’ll be back in an hour or so and will bring food.” He shuffled toward the door. “Lock it behind me, and don’t let anyone else come in.”

“Take your time. We’ve got a long wait. The Viking said it could be seventy-two hours before JC wakes up.”

“Ye’ll need to sleep.”

“I don’t require much sleep. I’ll start to doze after seventy-two hours, but I’m fine until then.”

Elliott dropped his head and rolled it back and forth. “This is my worst nightmare.”

“If I had told you the truth, none of this would have happened.”

“This is not yer fault, Paul.” Elliott raised his head and looked Paul in the eye. If James Cullen didn’t survive, Elliott didn’t want Paul to feel responsible for his death. “James Cullen knew what he was doing, but I have to accept a share of the responsibility. This business is bigger than all of us, and no one is capable of handling it alone. James Cullen had an exaggerated sense of his capabilities, and I never discouraged it. That’s my fault. Even if ye told us what happened, this would have played out the same way.”

“You’re trying to ease my guilt.”

“Ye’re a man of character, Paul. Now guard James Cullen well. If the Illuminati show up to steal the cloak, kill them. Yer automatic is loaded, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad to have ye on our side.” Elliott shuffled toward the door and opened it. “Bolt the lock and shutter the windows.” He peered out the door, looking both ways. “Sean’s stacked more wood on the porch and unsaddled the horse. It’s hobbled nearby to graze.”

As soon as Elliott stepped down off the porch, he heard the bolt slide into place and flinched, remembering Charlotte’s description of walking past Braham’s jail cell and hearing the bolt slam into place. The horror of Braham’s imprisonment in Richmond in 1865 was almost as shocking as what was happening here.

Elliott snapped his mount’s reins off the hitching post and swung up into the saddle. “Let’s go.” He rode back to the mansion with Sean and Emily in silence. When they reached the stallion barn, four men dressed in livery were unloading baggage from two carriages.

“Company’s arrived. Let’s keep James Cullen’s presence quiet as long as possible,” Elliott said.

“I’ll go talk to my farm manager about Paul’s horse,” Sean said.

Elliott dismounted, handed the reins to a groom, and then helped Emily dismount. “We’ll go on up to the house.”

“Tell Lyle Ann I’ll be right there,” Sean called after them.

Walking toward the front door, Elliott agonized over the next few minutes. The house would be a beehive of activity, and Kit, Meredith, and Lyle Ann would be competing for the queen bee’s role. He’d put his money on Kit.

He walked through the front door with Emily. “I have to pull Meredith aside, tell her what’s happened, then return to the cabin. With all this company, it’s not going to be easy.”

“I’ll do what I can. But, Elliott, JC’s condition is stressful. I noticed you didn’t drink the whisky Sean poured for you. That was smart, but if a sedative would help you or Meredith deal with the very understandable anxiety, I can give you something.”

“Meredith’s never relied on medication, and I doubt she’ll start now, but ye never know. Having a mild tranquilizer on hand might be a good idea.” As for himself, he wasn’t drinking, and he wasn’t about to drink plus take a sedative.

Emily opened her medical bag and put two pills in a small Ziplock pill bag. “Here are two diazepams, but don’t mix them with alcohol.”

Elliott put the bag in the pocket of his waistcoat. “If Meredith doesn’t want them, I’ll give them back.” He patted his pocket. If he had to sedate his wife, he’d put them in a cup of tea. She had never been an overprotective mother, but James Cullen was her only child, and he couldn’t be sure how she’d react. His calm and always-in-control bride might not be able to handle this. But she surprised him sometimes.

He steeled himself for what was to come and entered the mansion, where chaos ruled. Three petite blondes in their thirties buzzed around Kit, squealing, which Elliott somehow found amusing. If these three women were Kit’s daughters, they hadn’t inherited their mother’s personality. Kit never squealed over anything. He didn’t have time or the inclination to visit with them right now, but he couldn’t be rude.

Emily dashed off as soon as she saw her parents.

Traitor.

“Momma, Pappa.” Emily embraced her parents, and Elliott’s eyes watered again, forcing him to look away. The sight of Frances and Christopher Duffy embracing Emily was too emotional to watch. They had their child back…while he might never hold his son again.

“Elliott,” Meredith called. “Come in here when you have a minute.”

He was thankful for the reprieve, but only momentarily. Meredith would know as soon as she looked into his eyes that something was wrong. He mustered as much courage as he could and stepped into the parlor.

43

The Badlands (1885)—Ensley

Ensley rode Tesoro through the Badlands alongside Norman’s chuckwagon. They were about a half mile behind the dust thrown up by TR and the others who were moving the remuda north. Her horse’s smooth gait and the warm sun on her face lulled her to sleep.

“Miss Ensley! Riders comin’,” Norman shouted.

She jerked her head up, her eyes wide open. “What? Where?”

“Behind us. Three of ’em. Keep your rifle close.”

She looked over her shoulder and saw three men heading toward them, riding hard. Maybe fifty to seventy-five yards out. A heavy dose of adrenaline pumped through her. It wasn’t the first time she’d worried about her safety, but now

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