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Book Manuscript

Romance

     Lee Simmons appears to be a cold-blooded gunslinger. Actually, she is a young woman. Having survived years of abuse, Laura Lee Ann is on a mission to kill Wade Hollister, who she holds responsible for her father's death and the murder of her mother by her stepfather.

     Jase Hollister is the late Wade Hollister's adopted son. They meet when Lee saves Jase from Tony Clemson's ambush. Clemson is determined to save his brothers from standing trial for embezzlement by getting rid of the only witness, Jase Hollister. To be together, they must overcome the Clemsons, Jase's family and Laura's past.

     Jase peered at the figure which stood half hidden in the shadows. The campfire was reflected on the barrel of the six-gun still clasped in the stranger's hand. Slowly lowering his own gun, Jase glanced around at the bodies of the three men littering the camp.

     Casually, the stranger slid the still warm gun into his holster and strode into camp at Jase's unspoken gesture of invitation. Kneeling by the campfire, he helped himself to the coffee brewing there, ignoring the crimson stain spreading down the sleeve of his left arm.

     "I owe you my thanks, Mister." Jase moved towed the campfire, his hand outstretched. As he came near, the stranger tilted his head back and Jase found himself staring into cold blue eyes. What stopped Jase was the angular face under the hat brim. It was the face of a boy, not a man. His voice as he responded, ignoring Jase's hand, was soft and high, not yet broken.

     "Ordinarily, I wouldn't have interfered. However, I do take exception to seeing a man being shot in the back. These friends of yours?" the stranger queried, sipping the strong black coffee.

     "Not exactly. They're friends of some people I ran into in Barlow."

     "They usually travel alone?" the stranger asked as he emptied the cup and rose.

     "Not usually."

     "I'd suggest then that you might want to get on your horse and move on before their friends show up and see this." The stranger gestured to the bodies as he moved toward the trees.

     "I'd like to repay your kindness...I don't believe I got your name."

     "Simmons, Lee Simmons. And don't worry about repaying me." Simmons stopped and his slight figure half turned, his voice sounding almost puzzled as he said, "Somehow I have a feeling that our paths are gonna cross again." With that, he turned back and disappeared into the darkness as quietly as he had come.

     For a second longer, Jase stared at the spot where the stranger had first appeared, then turned and began to gather his gear. Minutes later he, too, entered the concealing darkness and turned his mount toward home.

     As the pink fingers of dawn began to claw their way over the distant mountains, the stranger dismounted by a small stream. Soaking his neckcloth, he dabbed at the spot where a scab was already beginning to form. He shrugged out of his shirt, wincing as it stuck to the wound. Rising out his neckcloth again he wrapped it around the wound and tied it haphazardly, almost absently. Lee pulled on his other shirt and stuffed the torn and stained one into his saddlebags.

     Swinging back into the saddle, for a moment he slumped. Every bone felt limp and weary from too many days and nights in the saddle. Then his back stiffened and he sat up straight again. Stillwater. After Stillwater, there would be plenty of time to rest. Hatred and bitterness welled up in his throat, and his blue eyes grew even colder. After all these years, revenge was within his grasp. Only a few more days, and Lee would meet the man who had destroyed his life--everything he cared about. How Lee hoped, the bastard would remember after all this time. Lee wanted him to know why he was going to die, why Lee was going to kill him.

     Jase Hollister rode his horse up to the hitching post. Smiling but tired, he let the feeling of contentment wash over him just as it did every time he came home. The house stood solidly backed against the sky by the tall sheltering trees. White columns shone like beacons in the fading twilight.

     As he brought his horse to a stop, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair at the upstairs window. Even as his mind registered her presence, she was gone--but that was Mariah. She was restless--always on the go. He could imagine her racing for the stairs, calling his name. Grinning to himself, he dismounted and prepared for the onslaught. Damn, but it was good to be home.

     "Jase, you're back!" The petite blonde body came fying out the door and launched itself at him with all the force of a small tornado. "How did it go? What was Barlow like? Has it changed much? Did you see the Wionslows? What did you bring me?"

     "Slow down, Sis. Give the man a chance to catch his breath."

     Jase glanced over Mriah's head at the two men who stood just outside the door. The difference between the two was incongruous. Although as twins both had the same physical build and features, all similarities ended there. Jonathan fit the house. The perfect lord of the manor. In his "city clothes" he looked ready to spend an evening on the town.

     While Nick was...well, Nick. Dressed in worn denims and work shirt he looked more at home on a horse working the range than in the Hollisters' house. But in some ways he appeared more the lord of this manor than Jonathan. He embodied the type of man who would carve an empire out of an endless, uncivilized land. He had a distinct air of wariness and readiness about him, like a cat always ready to pounce. Jonathan was more approachable, more at ease. And as Jase had found out many times, much less stubborn. He had to admit he liked Jonathan better--but probably respected Nick more.

     With the smooth speed of often-repeated thoughts, Jase was hardly aware of the comparison he made as he casually acknowledged their presence. "Jonathan. Nick."

     "Well, how did it go, boy? Were you able to get things straightened out? I still don't see why Jonathan and Mother insisted on sending you. I could have staightened this out in half the time it took you. Never send a boy to do a man's job, I always say."

     "Now, Nick," Jonathan stepped in quickly before Jase had a chance to reply. "This is not the time to bring that up again. We discussed it before Jase went and while he was gone. Can't we hold off the hostilities for a moment at least and give Jase a chance to come in and sit down?"

     "Yes, Nick. I'm dying to hear all about Barlow. Come on, Jase, don't dawdle! Tom will put up your horse." Impatiently, Mariah tugged his arm, drawing him into the house. "Mother held supper for you. She just knew you'd be here today."

     "Welcome home, Jase." From the stairway, Carolyn Hollister's low melodic voice reached out to him with the warmth that was characteristic of her. In her fifties, she was still as beautiful as she had been twenty years earlier, and as active. In the elegant dress she was wearing she looked every inch the pampered lady of the house, but Jase knew how hard she had worked to help his father build this ranch and how much she still enjoyed pitching in and helping out. descending the staircase, she held out her hands to him. "William has just put supper on the table. Escort me in and after you wash up you can tell us all about your trip. Nick, you may escort Mariah. Come along now."

     Jase smiled to himself over how easily her velvet tongue ruled them all. Even Nick bowed to her quiet dictates no matter how much he blistered and bluffed. No doubt about it. Carolyn Hollister was one amazing lady.

     Not until everyone was served and appetites partially satisfied did talk begin around the table. "Well, Jase, I trust your trip was successful and uneventful?" Carolyn inquired.

     "Successful, yes. Uneventful...no. We were right. The Clemson brothers were skimming off the profits. I did just as we planned. I booked in at the hotel as Jay Winslow, and did some checking around. I found out that the Clemson Brothers have done some pretty sizable investing and buying in the last year or so. Clay just build a house for a new wife whose tastes do not run cheap, and Roy has been doing a fair bit of speculating. He's been staking a lot of miners and he's been losing pretty regularly at the poker table. The only one who hadn't been spending a lot recently was Tony." Jase paused to let them absorb the information.

     "Once I knew for sure we were right, I had to prove it. So I got a job loading timber. I kept track of how much was loaded in a day and how much was processed. Then after three weeks, I cabled you from the line shack for the monthly report and compared it. In the two weeks I was working there we logged more timber than your report showed for the whole month. There were no labor problems and no fire last year. That's why Roy told you it wasn't necessary to come inspect the damage. Once I had all the facts I took all the evidence to the sheriff and told him who I was. He went right out and arrested Clay and Roy."

     "Clay and Roy? What about Tony?" Jonathan put in.

     "We couldn't pin it on him. We questioned him but he denied knowing anything about it."

     "What about the records? Surely they proved he was guilty."

     " 'Fraid not. Clay and Roy did all the record keeping. Tony supervised the operations. I fired him, but legally we had nothing to hold him on."

     "What do you think, Jase? Was he in on it?" Carolyn asked.

     Yeah, sure as God made little green apples," Jase replied dryly. "Clay and Roy wouldn't admit it, but I think the whole thing was Tony's idea. Tony has a cattle ranch south of town. Not a large spread, just a good sized one. The funny thing is that there are only a few head of cattle, and the ranch hands, well, they aren't ordinary ranch hands. Besides, something happened on the way back that makes me even more certain that he was involved."

     "What happened?" At their mother's sharp tone both Nick and Jonathan leaned forward in their chairs.

     "The day I left Barlow I had a strange feeling so I rode till dark. I had just set up camp when two men appeared. They said I had made a big mistake when I fired Tony Clemson. That we Hollisters should have stayed in Stillwater where we belong, and that they were going to teach my family a lesson about snooping around where they weren't wanted. They went for their guns, and I dropped them both, but as I fired the second shot I heard a shot behind me."

     "Behind you! Oh, Jase, you weren't shot, were you?"

     "Don't be so silly, Mariah. If he had been shot he wouldn't be sitting here now, now would he?" Nick asked caustically.

     As Mariah took a deep breath and her eyes began to fill, Jonathan interrupted. "Now, don't the two of you start. Let's let Jase finish his story. OK?"

     "Well, anyway, I turned around and saw a man lying there. Apparently the plan was to shoot me in the back if all else failed. For a minute I didn't see anyone else, then a stranger stepped up to the fire."

     "A stranger?" interrupted Mariah. "What was he like? Was he friendly? Did you--"

"Please let Jase finish his story, Mariah. I'm sure he'll answer all our questions in time." Carolyn put in gently.

     "I'm sorry, Mother."

     "To tell the truth, Mariah, I don't really know much about him. Physically, he was only a little bigger than you. Not very tall and very lean. And yound--just a boy. In a fist fight, I wouldn't bert too much on his chances. But...it was his eyes. They were blue like the sky, but cold. Like he was already dead and had nothing to fear any more. And the way he handled his gun. It seemed so deadly...so unfeeling. He shot that man and it was like taking target practice. then he came into my camp, helped himself to coffee and left. He'd taken a bullet in the arm, but it never fazed him. He just disappeared into the night as quickly and silently as he'd come. But the last thing he said was that our paths would cross again. I can't help feeling that..." his voice trailed off.

     "That what, Jase?" Carolyn prompted.

     "His eyes were so cold, so empty. He reminded me of that wounded lion we killed up in Newland Pass. He was definitely capable of defending himself, but he still seemed...young-defenseless somehow. It was like--this is going to seem strange, but it was as if I knew him, could see into his soul, but I know we've never met." Jase's green eyes narrowed as if even now he was peering into the stranger's mind. A trace of a chill invaded the room, for his words were like a prophesy of something to come.

     "Humph. Just when you think you might be able to make a successful businessman out of him, he goes off dreaming about mysterious strangers who vanish into thin air. Poof! If you ask me, the boy's had too much sun lately."

Now, Nick." Jonathan again stepped in as peacemaker. "It's possible that Jase might have met the stranger years ago and just doesn't remember. Or else the stranger reminds him f someone he knows. Right, Jase?"

     "Maybe...maybe." For a moment longer he dwelled on his encounter with the stranger, then resolutely shook his head. "Well, Jonathan, how badly did Nick mess up transferring the herd from the southern pasture?"

     "Mess up! Listen, you, I've been working this ranch since before you were wearing long pants! I know more about cows than you could ever learn!"

     Grinning to himself, Jase lazily cut a piece of steak and leaned back, listening to Nick bellow. Yup, it was damn good to be home.

     After breakfast the next morning, Jase, Jonathan and Nick shut themselves up in the library with a pot of coffee and began work to sort out the Balow Timber Company. Emerging from the room to retrieve some papers, Jase ran into Carolyn idly arranging flowers in a vase for the vestibule.

     "Mother, I thought you and Mariah were going to ride into town and visit Miss Mason. Weren't you to be fitted for your new dresses?"

     "I sent Paul in with a message expressing my regrets. Mariah has come down with a bad headache and I thought it best if she rested awhile. Paul's going to pick up some tonic from Dr. Parker for her."