Hernando Heat

Chapter Nine

Mason hated riding posses. If there was one part of his job he’d gladly do without, it was this. Not that he was old, but he wasn’t nearly as young as the Campbell brothers, eighteen and nineteen, and Joss Porter, twenty. Those men had no trouble sleeping out every night after riding all day and awaking fresh as sunshine the next morning, while he was left to cover his groans and popping joints with the sound of coughing.

Unfortunately, this time he couldn’t bring their quarry back alive. The man had holed up in an old shack and refused to come out, firing on them when they closed in. They’d returned fire and killed him.

No need for a trial, at least. And since the man admitted his guilt when he was yelling at them that they’d never take him alive, swearing that the victim deserved killing, Mason’s conscience felt clear.

At least on that point.

He laid there a little before dawn, determined to make home before lunch, where he could have a bath and a hot meal, put on clean clothes, grab a fresh horse, and ride to town to see Katie.

And have a talk with her.

He didn’t want to wait until that evening to let her know he was stepping aside. Joe deserved happiness.

It’d break his heart, but he’d survive.

He’d deal with the jealousy somehow. But it was more important to him for Joe to be happy. Joe hadn’t smiled as much or as broadly in years as he had over the past few weeks with Katie around. Only a fool would miss that.

He refused to deny him that happiness. God knew Katie had suffered more than her fair share of grief, enough to last her several lifetimes. They could help each other heal. They had so much, including that, in common.

Finally he arose, washed up in the creek they’d camped beside, and nudged the others awake. Skipping breakfast, they saddled up and rode, splitting up just north of Brooksville. Joss, who lived in town, volunteered to report back to Sheriff Birch for him, to let him know they’d returned and that Mason would be in to talk to him that afternoon.

As the house appeared before him on the road, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Home.

One of the stable hands took his horse for him and would swap the gelding out for a fresh one for Mason’s ride to town. Inside the house, on his way to his room, he paused at Katie’s door. After hesitating, he opened it. The clock, which he knew she wound religiously every day, sat on a shelf alongside the picture of her husband.

He tried to convince himself this was for the best, the right thing, despite how much it hurt now that he was home again. He drew water into the washtub on the back porch, cleaned up, and put on a clean change of clothes.

I want her to be happy. She deserves better than a deputy she has to worry about getting shot. Joe’s responsible, a businessman. Respectable. He can provide for her.

The ride home had given him time to think. Joe had protested when Mason revealed his intentions not to court her, but neither had he denied he had feelings for her, either. Joe had been so happy these past few weeks since she came into their lives.

No, this was for the best.

He ripped a hunk of bread off a loaf and took it with him to snack on during his ride to town.

Inside, he felt his heart dying and tried to ignore it.

He was halfway to town when he came up on one of their ranch hands heading toward him, driving a wagon full of supplies.

Calvin Rodgers reined the team to a stop and pushed his hat back on his head. Mason wasn’t so sure he liked the grin on the man’s face. “I heard you was back. Ran into Joss in town. Congratulations!”

Mason tried to tamp down his irritation. “What are you talking about?”

“About you gaining a sister-in-law, so to speak.” He spit a mouthful of tobacco into the dirt. “Dorchester Senior’s gonna be right sore when he finds out he cain’t bail Junior out of Sheriff’s hoosegow!”

Mason leaned forward in the saddle, his heart freezing despite the heat. “What are you talking about?” he asked again.

Calvin looked a little confused. “I figured you’d already heard. Sheriff said he thought someone rode out to tell you. Dorchester Junior’s sitting in his jail. He attacked Widow Dorchester this morning.”

“Katie? Is she all right?”

“Yeah. Joe showed up jus’ in time and beat the tar outta Junior. Junior got mouthy wit’ him, and that’s when Joe spilled the beans to everyone ’bout him and the widow plannin’ on getting’ hitched.” He tipped his hat to Mason. “Congratulations.”

Numb shock washed through Mason as he nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Calvin hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the load. “I gots to get this back to the ranch or boss’ gonna have my hide.” He snapped the reins as Mason moved his horse out of the way.

It was one thing to do what was right and honorable, and another thing for the man he considered a brother to swoop right in and take it right out from under him, even if he’d already said he was going to step aside.

He stared at the dusty road leading to Brooksville and decided he didn’t want to face either one of them right then. Not to mention the rest of the town. He waited until Calvin crested a rise in the road. Then Mason turned off the road and headed his horse across an alfalfa field. He could cut through the woods and hit a little gin shack just north of town and buy a bottle of whiskey.

Katie worried when she heard the posse had returned, but there was no sign of Mason in town. Joe told her not to worry, that Mason was likely at home getting cleaned up, or had been called out to take care of other matters. She hoped he was right, but her intuition had other ideas.

Joe stared down at her as they rode home. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head. “I’m worried about Mason. And I’m worried about what Junior’s father is going to do when he finds out the sheriff won’t release him on bail. The justice of the peace is a friend of Senior’s.”

“Yeah, but Judge Kenning’s daughter is married to the sheriff’s brother-in-law.” Joe smiled. “And their family don’t like the Dorchesters at all. Believe me, if Judge Kenning has to choose between the Dorchesters or his blood relations, especially his only baby girl, Dorchester will lose every time.”

That was only moderately comforting news to Katie.

By the time they arrived home, Katie’s worries had ballooned into full-blown fear. When Calvin emerged from the barn to come take care of the team, she asked him the question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. “Have you seen Mason?”

Calvin unwound the reins from the hitching post where Joe had tied them. “Yes, ma’am. Ran into him earlier today on my way back from town.” He frowned. “Didn’t he make it to town? That’s where he was heading, or so I took it.”

Katie exchanged a worried glance with Joe. “No, he never did.”

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t upset him.”

“Upset him?” Joe asked.

“Yessir. I told him about the attack on Miz Katie, and offered my congratulations on your pending nuptials.” He grabbed his hat and tipped it at Katie. “Ma’am. Congratulations, by the way.”

She numbly nodded. “Thank you.” She was barely aware of Joe’s hand gently catching her elbow and steering her toward the house.

He leaned down to speak in her ear. “Katie, this doesn’t mean—”

She wheeled on him. “It means he’s upset,” she angrily hissed. “This is all my fault!” She stomped up the steps to the house, Joe close on her heels.

“How can you say this is your fault?” he asked. A rumble of thunder from a late afternoon storm punctuated his question as he caught up to her at the front door.

Was he truly that dense? “Because,” she said, her vision blurry from tears as she fumbled for the latch, “if I hadn’t moved in with y’all, none of this would have happened!”

He forced her to turn around and look at him. “You saying you ashamed of me? Or that you don’t love me?”

Her throat hurt from the effort it took to choke back her sobs. “No,” she whispered. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t think very kindly of myself right now.”

Joe gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “This will be okay,” he assured her. “I will talk with him and believe me, it will be all right.” He reached around her to open the door as the sky broke open and a deluge of fat raindrops pattered against the grass in the yard.

She stared out from the safety of the porch. “You should go look for him,” she softly said. “Make sure he’s okay.”

“He’s okay, Katie. I’m sure of it. He might be drowning his misery in a bottle of whiskey, but he’s okay. He’ll come home when he’s good and ready to, and then I can talk to him.” He pressed his hand into the small of her back and guided her through the door into the dim house. “Go on, now,” he gently said. “Go change into your house coat and wash your face and I’ll help you with dinner.”

Nodding and still close to tears, she headed to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, resting her forehead against it for a moment before turning. The first thing she saw was the clock and picture of Paul.

That brought on a renewed spate of tears that left her sprawled across her bed. She never heard her door open a few minutes later, but she felt Joe’s touch and the mattress sink beside her as he gathered her into his arms. A renewed bout of crying left her sniffling, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as he stroked her hair.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“No. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel better again.”

He tipped her chin to look into her eyes. “Stop thinking like that. Let me talk to him before you go assuming the worst.”

She glanced out the window, where the rain had stopped and the greenish-grey light of dusk had settled across the yard, with speckles of golden sunlight holding on for dear life as the sun sank below the trees on the other side of the pastures.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t he be back by now? Can’t you please go look for him?”

He kissed her forehead and sat up, pulling her with him. “I don’t need to. He’ll come home when he’s ready.” He stood and held out his hand. She finally took it and he helped her stand. “Change, wash up, and meet me in the kitchen.”

She nodded and he kissed her again before leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Trying to avoid looking at Paul’s photograph, she quickly shed her dress and donned a simple, comfortable housedress. Joe was already out in the kitchen and had fired up the stove to boil water for the potatoes. When she heard the sound of hoofbeats in the yard, she almost didn’t recognize the angry, slurred bellow accompanying them.

“Joe! Get yer worthless hide out here right now, goddamn it!”

Joe ran out the back door onto the porch with Katie on his heels. Mason, a nearly empty whiskey bottle in hand, rode up into the back dooryard, scattering chickens in his wake as he unsteadily slouched over his mount’s neck. Tight-lipped, Joe wanted to order Katie into the house but knew she probably wouldn’t go anyway.

“Mase, get down from there before you get hurt.” His cousin was sop-soaking wet, obviously caught in the afternoon deluge. His horse looked mud caked and miserable, but none the worse for wear.

Joe stepped off the porch to make a grab for the horse’s reins, but Mason lurched back in the saddle, forcing the horse to take a couple of steps backward. Mason pointed the bottle at him.

“You. You fuggin’ sumbitch. Din waste no time, didja?” He took one last, long pull from the bottle, draining it before throwing it at Joe. The wild pitch sent the bottle sailing against the water trough, where it shattered. “Jus couldn’t wait, cudja?”

Joe held out his hands in supplication. “Mase, it’s not like that. Let me explain.”

He lurched forward in the saddle again as he jabbed an unsteady finger at Joe. “Waz to explain, you bastard! You took her!”

Joe bit back his temper. His cousin was upset and drunk, neither of those conditions ones he wanted to tackle alone on a good day, much less together at the same time. First things first, he had to get Mason off that horse before he got himself hurt.

“Mase, please. Get down and let me talk to you—”

“Nuttin’ to talk about!” Mason roared, taking a wild swing in the air. “I love her, and you stoled her from me!”

Joe was painfully aware of Katie’s presence on the porch, standing there, holding on to one of the columns, the soft sound of her tears ripping his heart apart. He’d gladly trounce Mason for putting her through this, but first he needed to get control of the situation. He forced his voice to remain calm and steady.

“You and me need to talk about this. She loves you, too. She loves both of us.”

Mason’s mouth gaped. “What?” He made an unsteady grab for his saddle horn as a chicken spooked his horse. Instead, he missed and tumbled off into the mud with a loud, wet splat as his mount skittered sideways away from the offending fowl.

Katie gasped, but Joe held up a staying hand without turning. “Stay there, Katie. Let me handle this.” He stepped forward. Most likely he and Mason both would be sporting shiners and even more bruises in the morning, but he wouldn’t let Katie get between them. This had to happen, and perhaps sooner rather than later was for the best, especially if Mason was so drunk he might not remember most of it the next morning.

And Mason being drunk would likely give Joe a physical advantage he might not normally have.

“Mase, sit with me and talk.”

Mason rolled over, his front side covered head to toe in orange clay mud and chicken poop. “Fug you!” He tried to stand and slipped, landing on his back in the muck.

Joe stifled a laugh. This would be funny if his cousin’s heart and their relationship weren’t at stake. He took another step forward. “Mase, let’s talk. Please. Be reasonable.”

Mason let out a drunken roar and launched himself up from the mud, catching Joe in the midsection and driving him back and down into the mud himself.

Katie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as Mason charged Joe and sent them both sprawling into the mud. Punches and curses flew from Mason, with Joe blocking them and trying to get his cousin to listen to him and see reason. Finally, Joe started throwing punches of his own. Despite how drunk he was, Mason still managed to hold his own against his cousin.

As the fight raged on, Katie felt the tears on her face, hating herself that the men she loved had been driven to this point. She thought Joe would get the upper hand, but then he tripped over a rock, and Mason landed on top of him, quickly raining punches down on his face.

That’s when she snapped. She screamed as she ran off the porch, barefoot, through the mud. “Mason! Please, stop!” She threw herself at him, grabbing his arm but losing her footing in the slick clay mud and going sprawling herself.

Mason tried to shake her free at first, but she held on to his wrist as tenaciously as a kudzu vine clinging to a pine tree. “Please, stop! Listen to him!”

“I’m sorry, Katie, but I love you and—”

“I love you, too!” she cried out.

Mason froze, staring at her. “You do?”

She nodded. “I love both of you,” she softly admitted, barely able to force the words through her trembling lips.

Joe took that moment to come up out of the mud and shove Mason off him, throwing Katie off balance and face forward into the muck in the process.

Both men cried out in dismay. She felt their hands on her, trying to help her up. Mason grabbed her under her armpits to haul her to her feet. Instead, he slipped and landed on his butt, pulling her face down on top of him with her legs straddling his hips and her hands on his chest.

She didn’t miss the feel of the hard length of flesh pressing against her through his soaked and muddy pants.

Realizing what she must look like, and seeing both men covered head-to-toe in mud, she felt the first laugh bubble through. Joe plopped down next to them and with a muddy finger brushed the hair out of her eyes. He smiled then started laughing with her.

Mason stared up at them, watching them laugh with confusion on his face. Katie laughed so hard tears rolled down her cheeks again, creating clean trails in the mud coating her face.

Once Katie regained her composure, she reached down and stroked Mason’s cheek, leaving another filthy handprint there. “I do love you, Mason. But I love him, too.” She looked at Joe, who nodded. “He says maybe the three of us can figure this out so we can all be together.” Somehow, she finally drew strength to meet Mason’s gaze again.

He looked up at her. “Both of us?”

She nodded, fighting to hold back another bout of tears. “Yes. If you think you can stand it.”

Joe spoke up. “I’m not strong enough to walk away from her, but I am strong enough to give her what she needs and wants. She wants both of us. I’m willing to give her that, but only because you’re even closer than a brother. I couldn’t do it if it was anyone else but you, Mase.”

Mason stared at Joe then returned his attention to her. She stared into his brown eyes. “I don’t want to hurt either one of you,” she said, her voice cracking. “And if we can’t make this work…Well, I’d just have to leave, because I can’t bear the thought of hurting either of you.” Joe started to speak again, but she laid a finger over his lips, silencing him. “I know you said you’d do the talking, but I think I need to.” He finally nodded.

Mason’s finger traced the path of her tears down her cheeks. “Please don’t leave, Katie,” he softly said. Then his fingers snaked through her sodden hair, gently cupping the back of her head and pulling her down to him. He thoroughly kissed her, for a moment making her forget the three of them were sprawled in the mud, curious chickens scattered by the scuffle already returning to investigate.

Joe touched Mason’s shoulder. “I’ll go draw a bath. We all need to clean up.” He climbed to his feet and headed for the house.

Katie settled herself more comfortably over Mason’s hard bulge. “I’m sorry you found out like that. I wanted us to be able to talk about it.”

“Calvin said there was a fight in town. Between Joe and Junior. Did that bastard hurt you?”

“No. He would have, if Joe hadn’t showed up when he did.” She laid down on top of him, enjoying the feel of his arms slipping around her, the sound of his heartbeat under her ear pounding through his muddy shirt. “He threatened to kill me, and that no one would know what happened to me. That he’d make it look like an accident.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

The smell of whiskey on Mason’s breath nearly made her eyes water, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“How am I supposed to take care of you?” he softly asked, his voice sounding pained. “I can’t even be there for you when you need me. You’re better off with Joe.”

She rose up to look into his eyes. “Don’t you love me?”

He nodded. “Of course I do, Katie. More than anyone or anything, ever, in my entire life.”

“Can you share me with him?”

He slowly nodded. “Just don’t ask me that when I’m alone in bed and I know you’re with him.”

She grabbed his chin. “Who says we can’t all sleep in the same bed?”

He studied her. “You mean it?”

“If you’re okay with it.” She snuggled up against him again, hoping he’d remember this conversation when he sobered up. “Nothing would make me feel safer than lying between you and him every night, feeling both of y’all’s arms around me. Nothing would make me feel more loved.”

His arms tightened around her as he pulled her in for another kiss. His lips tenderly explored hers, lighting fires inside her that threatened to consume her soul. “I love you, Katie,” he whispered. “If the only way I can have you is to share you, I’ll do it. Gladly.” He touched her nose with his finger. “But only with Joe. No one else. I’ll kill anyone else that even looks at you strangely.”

“Do you mean it?” She hoped he still felt like that tomorrow.

He nodded. “But I’m so drunk right now y’all might have to remind me of that in the morning.” A smile curled his lips, drawing creases in the mud coating his face.

She laughed. “We will. She carefully climbed to her feet, careful not to let her muddy housedress trip her as it clung to her legs.

Mason unsteadily wobbled to his feet. Joe came down from the porch to help Katie steady him. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Mason swayed a little. “You hit me!” he said to Joe in an accusing tone.

For a moment, Katie worried another scuffle would break out until she spotted the playful smile on Mason’s face.

“Well, you come home drunk as a skunk and slinging whiskey bottles at me, yeah. If you’ll recall, you hit me first.” He draped an arm around Mason’s waist and helped him up the porch stairs to a wooden rocker, where they got him seated with a groan.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

Joe clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I got my own licks in.”

Katie dropped to her knees in front of Mason and started working on getting his boots off. “You’re a mess. You’re absolutely filthy.”

Mason howled with laughter. “Look who’s talking! You look like you lost a wrestling match with a pig.”

Joe smiled as he reached down and unfastened Mason’s gun belt, which was caked with clay muck, and removed it from around his waist. “She did, you pig. I’ll get this cleaned up for you after we get this mud off us. Katie will help you with that part. Not to mention I need to get your horse cleaned up.”

He grinned a little lopsidedly. “Yeah, I’d much rather have her hands on me than yours, cuz. No offense.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “None taken.”