Wild Is My Heart Page 4

  “I’m Deputy Lender, Sheriff Bauer is…er… busy,” the man said, slanting a nervous glance over his shoulder. “If you want the sheriff, come back later.”

  Something in the deputy’s manner did not set right with Colt. By now, sniffing out trouble was second nature to him. “I’ll wait,” Colt replied with cool authority.

  A prickling sensation at the back of his neck and a vague feeling of unease kept him from going on to other business until the sheriff was free to see him. During all his years of fending for himself, he had developed a sixth sense where danger was concerned. It wasn’t infallible, but he learned to heed its warning. Therefore he wasn’t unprepared when a feminine scream and a series of low moans came from somewhere inside the building housing the jail.

  “What’s that?” Colt asked sharply, his right hand hovering above the six-shooter riding on his hip.

  “I didn’t hear nothin’,” Lender growled in his guttural accent.

  A woman’s terror-stricken voice filtering through the thick walls proclaimed him a liar. “Please, have mercy.”

  Colt didn’t wait around to question Lender further but sprinted past the sluggish man and burst through the door straight into a scene that set his blood to boiling.

  A man, obviously Sheriff Bauer, was struggling with a woman in one of the two small cells at the rear of the large room. He was grossly obese, his huge frame straddling the small woman beneath him. Her clothes lay in tatters about her small form, and Colt saw at a glance that the determined sheriff had already unfastened his trousers in preparation for his assault. Colt’s temper exploded.

  “Sheriff Bauer! Take your hands off that woman!” His voice was low and menacing yet charged with quiet authority, demanding instant obedience.

  Pinning the helpless woman to the narrow cot with his considerable bulk, Bauer swiveled, his face mottled with rage. “Gott in himmel, who are you? I told Lender to keep everyone out while I interrogate the prisoner.”

  “Aren’t you usin’ the wrong word?” Colt spat contemptuously. “Don’t you mean rape? Are all women prisoners subjected to your personal brand of justice?”

  “What’s it to you, stranger? I’m sheriff here. If you don’t want to end up in the other cell, get the hell out of here and keep goin’. We don’t like strangers in Karlsburg.”

  “So the deputy told me,” Colt sneered, obviously unimpressed.

  “Ja, I told him you were…busy,” interjected Lender, all but groveling before his superior. “But he wouldn’t listen.”

  “Vamoose, Lender, and take that nosy son-of-a-bitch with you.”

  “No, please,” a timid voice begged. “Don’t leave me with him. Help me.”

  Colt’s tawny eyes blazed with barely suppressed rage as they settled on the woman still struggling beneath Bauer’s sweating body. He reckoned now was as good a time as any to reveal his identity. With cool deliberation he reached in his pocket, removed the Ranger badge, and pinned it to his chest. Lender’s mouth flopped open and his eyes bulged grotesquely.

  “My name is Colt…Andrews.” Colt’s voice boomed with authority. “I’m a Texas Ranger and as ornery a son-of-a-bitch as you’ll ever meet. Move off the woman. You’ve got some tall explainin’ to do.”

  Reluctantly levering his body off the woman, Bauer bent Colt an assessing glance. “Did you come in answer to Mayor Mohler’s plea?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Where’s the others?”

  “Others?”

  “Ja. You don’t expect to face a gang of desperadoes by yourself, do you?” Bauer’s nasty laugh set Colt’s teeth on edge.

  “I’m accustomed to workin’ alone,” Colt said, slicing him an affronted look. The truth was he had a partner, Jim Blake, waiting in San Antonio for word to join him. Colt had chosen to arrive in Karlsburg alone and evaluate the situation before sending for Jim. “I’m still waitin’ for your explanation. Do you rape all female prisoners?”

  “Frau Scheuer is no virgin,” whined Bauer obsequiously, as if that explained his vile conduct.

  “Why is she in jail?”

  “The woman killed her husband. I’ve been… interrogating her, but she refuses to confess.”

  “I told you it was an accident,” the woman sobbed, plucking the thin blanket from the cot and draping it around her tattered clothing.

  “Likely story,” sniffed Bauer haughtily. “Herr Scheuer was a respected businessman.”

  “What happened, ma’am?” Colt asked kindly.

  The woman looked to be somewhat over forty, still trim and pretty with lovely gray eyes. Before she had covered her ill-clad form, Colt noted vivid purple and orange bruises on nearly every part of exposed flesh. Some looked to be several days old, and Colt wondered if Mrs. Scheuer had been in jail long enough for Bauer to abuse her more than once.

  “My name is Ida Scheuer,” the battered woman began hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to kill my husband, it was an accident.” She began to sob, and Colt reached out clumsily to pat her shoulder.

  “Go on, Mrs. Scheuer.”

  “Herman was a brutal man. Our two sons left home because they couldn’t stand the beatings. After they left, Herman was even meaner than before, blaming me for their leaving. It’s true I encouraged them, but they had no life at home.” She paused to catch her breath.

  “Herman directed his anger toward me, and during the last few months he beat me nearly every day,” Ida continued. “Two nights ago he deliberately found fault with his meal and began beating me with a thick switch he kept for just that purpose. Suddenly I couldn’t take it any more. I grabbed an iron skillet from the stove intending to deflect some of his blows. He lunged at me just as I swung the skillet up to protect my face. I hit him, not hard enough to kill him, but the blow knocked him to the floor, and as he fell he hit his head against a sharp edge on the corner of the stove. I ran for the sheriff, and when my husband was pronounced dead, he put me in jail.”

  “She’ll stay here until the judge comes to town,” Bauer insisted stubbornly. “I’m only doin’ my job. The people of Karlsburg pay me to protect them.”

  “What about the Crowder gang?” Colt taunted. “You’ve done damn little where they’re concerned. So little, in fact, that the mayor felt compelled to seek help from the Texas Rangers.”

  “It will take an army to chase those outlaws from our tow”,” Bauer complained. “I wish you luck, Andrews, but don’t expect miracles. The gang seems to like our town and keeps comin’ back.”

  “Where are you and your deputy when they shoot up the town?”

  “Holed up in my office. Gott in himmel, I’m not stupid.”

  Snorting in disgust, Colt turned to Ida. “Is this the first time Sheriff Bauer has assaulted you, ma’am?” He perceived Ida Bauer as a decent woman who had been abused by her husband for years. She shouldn’t have to endure more of the same cruel treatment from a lawman.

  Ida lowered her head and whispered, “No, he… he raped me last night. So did his deputy.”

  Colt’s tawny eyes stabbed with relentless fury into Sheriff Bauer. “I want Mrs. Scheuer released immediately.” His voice exploded with menace.

  “Now see here, Andrews, the woman is a murderess. You got no business comin’ here and tellin’ me what to do.”

  “I’m makin’ it my business. It sounds like a case of self-defense to me. I strongly suggest you set Mrs. Scheuer free.” His words were calmly spoken, but the threat implicit.

  “What if I don’t?” Bauer defied.

  “Then I’ll leave and let you handle the Crowder gang by yourself. It wouldn’t be long before you find yourself without a job. Or maybe the Crowders would save the town trouble and eliminate you.”

  “Get out of here,” Bauer growled to Ida and gesturing toward the door. “The Texas Ranger says you’re not guilty.”

  Ida didn’t need a second invitation. Sailing past the sheriff, she scurried out the door, pausing briefly. “Thank you, Ranger Andrews. If there’s ever anything
I can do for you, you can find me in Scheuer’s Grocery. I’ll be running my husband’s store from now on.” Then she was gone.

  “I hope you’re satisfied, Andrews,” Bauer grumbled crossly. “What in the hell did you want with me in the first place? It’s Mayor Mohler you should be dealin’ with.”

  Colt’s original purpose in visiting the sheriff was to hand over the holdup money and make arrangements to house Sam and her brother until they could be brought to trial. But something strange had happened to him on the ride into town. A hard kernel in his heart began to dissolve, allowing an unaccustomed emotion to take its place. An emotion so raw, so unwelcome, it defied definition. Sam was but a child playing a dangerous game. He could remember her now, lying on the wet ground with a hole in her chest that he had put there. Then in his mind’s eye he saw her lovely body nude beneath his hot gaze, and her spitting fire at him like a declawed tigress who hadn’t the strength to hurt him. God, she was magnificent!

  By the time Colt had reached Karlsburg he was so confused he was undecided exactly what to do with Sam and Will. But now, after seeing with his own eyes what would happen to Sam if left to the tender mercies of Sheriff Bauer and his deputy, he knew he couldn’t condemn her to a life in hell no matter how guilty she was. Something desperate had driven her to attempt that foolish robbery and he fully intended to find out what it was.

  But at least he could rid himself of the money from the holdup. He dropped the bulging sacks on the desk, leaving Sheriff Bauer and Deputy Lender gaping in disbelief. “Turn it over to Mr. Logan,” Colt said tersely. “It’s the stolen gold shipment from the stage robbery.”

  “You caught the thieves?”

  Colt hesitated only briefly. “No, they got away. Be thankful I recovered the gold. Now that that’s settled, tell me where to find Mayor Mohler.”

  “His office is in city hall, at the west edge of town. If he isn’t mere you’ll find him across the street in the Palace Saloon.”

  Colt nodded, turned on his heel, and left.

  “Watch that man, Lender,” Bauer muttered darkly. “No one’s gonna take over my town. No Texas Ranger will tell me how to do my job. See to it that he concentrates on the Crowders and leaves me alone.”

  Dealing with Sheriff Bauer left a bad taste in Colt’s mouth. Instead of turning toward city hall he headed across the street to the Palace Saloon. He needed a whiskey to wash away the bitter dregs of Bauer’s cruel brand of justice. He’d come up against men like Bauer before, but most were on the opposite side of the law.

  Few customers patronized the saloon this time of day. Though it seemed much later, a glance at his pocket watch told Colt it was only four o’clock. One man leaned against the long, polished bar, four others were seated around a back table playing poker, and another occupied a table close to where Colt stood at the bar, an attractive bar girl draped over the man’s lap. No one paid heed to Colt as he bellied up to the bar and ordered a whiskey, bolted it down, then asked for another. He was about to carry it to a table when the bartender’s sharp eyes noted the badge. “You one of them Texas Rangers Mayor Mohler and the town council been expecting?”

  “Colt Andrews,” Colt said, extending his hand.

  “Damn glad to meet you. I’m Dirk Faulkner. Things been a mite hectic around here since the Crowders came to town.”

  “You own the saloon, Mr. Faulkner?”

  “Naw, I only work here. The boss don’t usually come down till the action starts.”

  “I understand the mayor often comes here in the afternoon. Is he around?”

  “Not yet,” Dirk replied, “but if he’s on schedule he’ll show up soon. Enjoy your drink while you’re waiting.”

  “Much obliged, I will,” Colt smiled, carrying his drink to the nearest table.

  He was glad for the respite. He had some hard thinking to do concerning Samantha Howard, for he had no earthly idea what to do with the little spitfire. She was like no woman he’d ever known before. Beautiful, brave, foolish, feisty, exasperating, and thoroughly enchanting. And she could cuss with the best of them. Their all too brief conversations had left him with the unexplained need to know her better, to find out what drove her to such dangerous adventures as robbery. Colt’s mind was so consumed with Sam he thought his imagination was working overtime when he heard the man at the next table mention her name.

  “I’m gonna call on Samantha Howard tomorrow, Molly,” the man was saying, the sly look on his face leaving an uncomfortable feeling in Colt’s chest.

  “Why do you keep chasin’ that snooty bitch, Vern?” Molly pouted. “She’s turned your marriage proposal down so many times you’d be wise to forget her.”

  “This time is different,” Vern bragged, smiling deviously. “At five o’clock she’ll lose that damn ranch she’s so proud of. With no roof over her head, no visible means of support and a young brother to raise, she’ll be grateful to me for rescuin’ her. Once the bitch is mine she’ll be sorry she turned me down all those times.”

  Vern Logan, banker Calvin Logan’s son, Colt surmised as he sipped his whiskey and listened.

  “A year ago Sam’s daddy borrowed money from the bank to buy cattle,” Vern explained. “Shortly afterwards Indians stole the herd and old man Howard got himself killed by the Crowder gang on one of their rampages through town. Daddy gave Samantha six months to repay the loan or lose the ranch. Time runs out today at five o’clock.”

  “What do you want with an old ranch anyway?” Molly asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “Daddy learned from influential friends in San Antonio that the railroad is plannin’ a route that crosses the northern section of the Circle H Ranch. He’s been able to buy up most of the land the railroad intends to build on except for the Circle H. Old Man Howard refused to sell to Daddy. That’s why Daddy was so eager to loan him money. Too bad about them Indians stealin’ his cows. Him gettin’ killed later was another stroke of bad luck.” Colt thought the tone of Logan’s voice indicated little if any remorse as well as hinting that he knew more than he was willing to divulge about the affair.

  “Vern, honey,” Molly enthused, “sellin’ railroad rights to all those properties will earn your daddy a fortune.”

  “I’m an only son, Molly. One day it will all belong to me. I’m tellin’ you this in strict confidence, you understand,” Vern said, fixing Molly with a baleful glare.

  “You can trust me,” Molly huffed indignantly. “But I don’t understand why you want Samantha Howard when you’ll soon own her land whether she’s your wife or not.”

  “Samantha is beautiful, smart, and will make me a good wife once she’s tamed,” Vern replied. “Besides, I always did have a yen for her. She’s much too independent and wears outlandish clothes, but I’ll soon have her eatin’ out of my hand. Once she’s ridden a few times and broken to the whip, she’ll make a proper banker’s wife. Daddy insists I marry soon and he favors Samantha. He says with her as my wife our children will have some backbone.” Vern snorted. “The old coot thinks he can run my life.”

  “What about me?” Molly asked petulantly.

  “Nothing will change between us, honey,” Vern cajoled with smooth words. “We both know I can’t marry you. Daddy will disinherit me for sure. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still make each other happy.”

  “Howdy, Vern, what are you doin’ here at this time of day?”

  Colt pretended disinterest as a man entered the saloon and sauntered over to where Vern sat with his blond floozy.

  “Howdy, Keno,” Vern greeted in a friendly manner. “Daddy’s not feelin’ well today so I’m in charge at the bank.”

  “Don’t ‘pear like you’re workin’ too hard to me,” Keno guffawed.

  “Klaus Spindler is handlin’ things for a spell. I needed a little time off to…uh…wet my whistle.” He patted Molly’s posterior affectionately and winked at Keno. “What good is bein’ the boss’s son if you can’t take time off when you want it? ‘Sides, it’s nearly closin’ time and Klaus
is perfectly capable of handlin’ business.” They shared a laugh, then Keno moved off to join the poker game in progress at the back of the room.

  “As long as you don’t have to hurry back, we could go upstairs to my room,” Molly invited.

  Vern licked his lips hungrily. His father kept him so damn busy lately he’d had little time to devote to Molly. An afternoon’s romp in bed was just what he needed to top off a perfect day.

  Colt watched in disgust as Vern followed Molly up the stairs, fondling her generous bottom while she giggled and slapped ineffectually at his hand. Neither one had paid him the slightest attention nor noted the badge on his chest.

  What Colt had overheard explained why Sam needed money badly enough to steal. It was ironic that she should choose to steal gold belonging to the very man who was planning on seizing everything she held dear. Suddenly an idea began to form in the back of his brain. An idea so bizarre he nearly abandoned it. Driven by impulse and the desire to thwart the Logans’ nefarious plans, he pulled out his watch and noted that it was exactly five o’clock. Too late to redeem Sam’s note, but perhaps not too late to keep the Logans from taking advantage of a helpless woman, and so long as Vern remained in Molly’s bed, Colt felt certain his plan would succeed. Deliberately he removed the badge from his shirt.

  “I’m interested in buyin’ land suitable for farmin’ or ranchin’,” Colt told the young bank clerk sitting behind the cluttered desk.

  “You’ve come to the right place, sir,” the man said importantly. “We’ve had several foreclosures recendy and some are still available.” He went on to list five parcels of land, none of them the Circle H.

  “Hmmm …” mused Colt, “none of them seem exacdy what I had in mind. Vern Logan is a good friend of mine,” he lied, “and informed me only moments ago that somethin’ might be available north of the city.”

  “You’re a friend of Herr Vern, you say? I don’t recall seeing you before. You’re a stranger in town, aren’t you, Herr … Herr …”

  “Colter, Steven Colter. I met the Logans in San Antonio. I just spoke to Vern over at the Palace Saloon but he … er… had his hands full at the moment and couldn’t leave. He said to talk to his assistant. Are you Klaus Spindler?”