Chapter 7

There were two burials at the cemetery in town the next day. The man the Barkley brothers had killed was buried without fanfare, without mourners, in a pine box in a far corner of the graveyard with no headstone. Joey Cabot was buried with all of the Barkleys and all of their hired hands who could be spared from riding herd in attendance.

Many of the big, strong men were unashamed to be shedding tears. Heath was among them. This wasn't the first time an innocent had been killed by someone aiming for him, but this time it hurt worse than usual. Maybe because he hadn't gotten the chance to strangle the killer himself. Maybe more like because he hadn't been able to say into the man's face that he'd killed a poor kid who just got in the way. Even if that wouldn't have made any difference to the killer, whoever he was, Heath wanted to be able to spit it in the man's face. He really had wanted that.

Heath's family stayed with him after the services were completed and the hired hands wandered away. Heath still stood looking down at the fresh earth and the simple stone cross that marked the end of Joey Cabot's short life. Jarrod gave his mother and sister a glance that suggested they go on to the buggy, and they did. He and Nick stayed with Heath.

"I wanted him to know what he was paying for," Heath said quietly, and his brothers knew he was talking about the hired killer. "I don't care if he didn't feel anything about it. I still wanted him to know."

"If there's a God above, he knows, Heath," Jarrod said.

Heath nodded. "Guess I have to settle for that."

"We'll still need to keep our eyes open, keep a guard on all of us," Nick said. "We don't know if this guy was acting alone."

Heath nodded again. "My bet is he was, but yeah, we need to be sure that Mother and Audra are safe."

Nick put a hand on Heath's shoulder. "At least we do have a name to work with – Agatha Cromwell."

"Wish we had more. All we really have is her name, and her husband's, Alexander Carpenter. But we'll get her, Heath," Jarrod said. "And legally, we can make her pay for Joey Cabot, if she hired whoever this gunman was."

"Then we'll make her pay," Heath said. He never had taken his eyes off Joey's grave, and he said softly, "We'll make her pay for you, Joey. I promise you that."

THE END

(for now…)