The Preacher's Daughter by Cheryl St.john Read Free Book Online Page B

her. This time he could keep his sister safe.
    In the next second a blast echoed in his ears.
    The horses reared and whinnied and harnesses jingled; the carriage rocked. The smell of gunpowder burned his nose.
    “Ben!” Ellie screamed.
    On top of him, Winston’s body lay still and heavy. Ben rolled him off and staggered to his feet.
    Ellie stared at the unmoving body. Looked at the gun in Ben’s hand.
    “I didn’t mean to,” Ben said on a released breath.
    A light came on in one of the nearby houses, then another. She knelt over Winston’s prone body and she pressed her fingers to his throat, then looked up at her brother. “He’s dead.”
    When the truth about Winston Parker had been exposed, Ben had been pardoned. Sometimes the truth still haunted him. But he wouldn’t change what he’d done.
    He’d do it again today if he had to.
    Inside the barn Ben lit a lantern and saddled his black ranger with its characteristically white-spotted rump. Titus turned an intelligent-looking face toward Ben and nodded as though anticipating a run.
    “We’re stayin’ on the road, you know,” Ben told him. “Not takin’ any chances of you steppin’ into a hole in a field. It’s a pretty night. Maybe we’ll see Hoot out there.”
    He led the horse outside, closed the barn door and mounted.
    Titus pranced and Ben patted his neck with a smile. “Well, all right then.” He nudged the horse’s sides, and the animal shot forward.
    This particular breed was not that old, descending from two horses presented to General Ulysses Grant by a Turkish sultan maybe twenty years ago. Bred from an Arabian and a Barb and then later crossed with a Quarter Horse, they were known as Colorado Rangers. Because if its pedigree, Ben had paid a pretty penny for the colt four years ago. He liked to imagine Titus’s ancestors carrying sultans and princesses in exotic lands.
    Titus carried him swiftly, sure-footedly anticipating the bends in the road and responding to the slight tension on the reins as they came within sight of Newton.
    Ben reined his mount to an easy halt and viewed the lights of the city. Sometimes he thought about leaving Kansas behind. Making a start somewhere with mountains and cold rivers. Somewhere without the oppressive history this land held for him. But his older sister’s abiding love and his feelings of responsibility toward his younger brother held him fast. Ellie told him he spent too much time living in his head, that he needed more than animals for companions. In his opinion there weren’t many humans that were equal company or comfort. People were a disappointing breed.
    The night breeze caressed his hair, and he gazed upward at the stars. Maybe Ellie was right. She was sure happy with her family and friends. Maybe he should try a little harder, work to discover and possess what was missing in his life.
    Just the idea made his stomach burn. He leaned forward in the saddle and patted Titus’s neck. “What is missing?” he asked aloud.
    The animal’s ears twitched.
    A picture of his sister touching her husband’s chin with a look of adoration flitted across his thoughts, followed by another disturbing image: Lorabeth standing beside the bed with the red-and-white quilt.
    All Ben knew of family life was what he’d observed from the outside looking in. What he knew firsthand about men and women wasn’t fit for a respectable person to think on.
    Ben knew the dark side of men. He wasn’t afraid of what they could do to him. He’d already endured more than his life’s share of bad treatment, and he’d grown strong and capable in spite of it. He wasn’t afraid of hunger or poverty or even the judgment of other people. He could take care of himself, and he didn’t set much store by opinions or gossip.
    What scared the wits out of him was that he was a man. And as a man what he was capable of. Choices were what set him apart. Good choices were what kept him from being like those others. He’d had no option