The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [119]
Ignorance of her sacrifice didn’t make him feel any more righteous before God. He’d ignored God and hadn’t tried to listen for His wisdom and guidance. He’d gotten on his unholy horse and rode away with vengeance on his mind. He’d yearned for blood.
All this time John had longed for someone to help him through the hard times pressing down with a yoke too heavy for any man to bear. God had been there all along, waiting for him to ask. But he’d been a bullheaded fool, insisting on living life his way and giving Him respect when times were good. What happened to the ideals of a godly man, the ones he’d tried to instill in his brothers? Oh, he’d made a few steps toward giving all of his problems to God. Then he’d snatch them back again. Did his brothers sense his stubborn pride? He hoped he hadn’t lost their respect when he’d lost his hold on God.
God, I’m so ashamed. Forgive me for pretending to be You. Worse still, for judging Ember. Help me to get her free. I don’t care about myself. Just her.
John could ride to the High Plains Ranch for help. It was less than thirty minutes away. Possibly Bob had taken a turn for the better, and Wirt or Parker could ride back with him. He’d been so full of hate that he hadn’t tended to Bob like he should have. What if the man died before John could thank him for teaching him so much about law … the nature of man … and life. Next to Parker, Bob had been a man John had modeled his life after.
He studied the rustlers again. If the rain held, the men would be here for a while. His gaze returned to Ember. If there was a way to reassure her that he’d do his best to get her free—
A rifle poked him in the back. “Don’t move, John. I’d hate to use this on a neighbor.”
Victor Oberlander.
Bert heard the commotion above the thunder and the rain splattering around her. She turned her attention to the canyon’s entrance. In the fog of the downpour, a familiar figure took form. Not John. The man she’d tried so hard to protect from her brothers walked her way. Then she saw who held a rifle on him. Victor Oberlander. How could this be? He and John were friends. He attended church. Mr. Oberlander even wanted to court Leah.
She blinked, thinking she must be daft. A Christian man didn’t get involved with cattle rustlers and killers … Did he?
“Mr. Oberlander,” Clint called. “Did you bring someone without an invite?”
“Sure did.” Oberlander pushed John toward the men, the rifle firmly fixed against his back. “Guess he didn’t take me serious about shooting trespassers.”
“Maybe you should have told me your new ranch hands were hired guns.” John’s voice sounded strong and confident. But it would take more than a fearless stand to save him from these men.
“Bring him over by Bert,” Clint said, “where we can keep an eye on both of ‘em.”
Her gaze flew to John’s face, hoping he looked her way so she could silently tell him her many regrets. And her love.
Oberlander shoved him toward her, and one of the other men tied his hands behind him.
“The rain’s let up a bit,” Oberlander said. “I need you men to get the cattle branded.”
“Yes sir. That means buildin’ a fire, but if that’s what you want, then we’ll get it done. Can’t get ‘em all done before nightfall though.” Clint sneered. “What about Timmons here?”
Oberlander lifted his chin. “Do I have to tell you everything?”
“No sir.”
“And get rid of the girl too before leaving in the morning.”
Lester stepped forward. “Despite the trouble she’s been, she’s still our sister.”
Oberlander frowned. “And do you think she’s going to keep quiet after turning Simon into the law?”
And I once thought he was a good man.
“There’s a place in Denver,” Lester continued. “I talked to a man there who’ll pay a good price for her.”
Oberlander hesitated. “I probably know the same man. She won’t run from him. Those who do end up dead.” He swung his glance back to Lester. “Go ahead and sell her to him. But if she takes off, I’ll gun you down myself.”
Lester nodded. Bert saw the possibility of getting Lester to help her and John. Her brother