Grit To Grace

Prologue

August 3rd, 1899

Black Hill, Washington. It was a small town, tucked away in the desert prairies of the Pacific Northwest. It was here that whispers of death lingered on the breeze. Sheriff Patterson and his Deputy Will McClain knew their citizens were scared. They too heard the whispers.

They alone bore the weight of the knowledge. They had seen the recent murders that had cruelly taken the lives of more than ten innocent people. Some had been men, others had been women. Lately, there were children, too.

Sheriff Patterson was cautious about disclosing too much information, but he did tell the townsfolk that there had been bodies discovered. He had assured them that he and Will were working hard to solve the cases. In the meantime, he advised the townspeople to stay at home as much as possible and to keep a close eye on their children for safety.

They knew there was more to it than that. There had been murders before, but never had a case run their lawmen down as bad as this. Especially for Will. No one in their once lively town could overlook the haunted shadow in the deputy's eyes.

Since May, he had shouldered the majority of the investigation, devoting himself tirelessly to upholding the oath he'd sworn half a decade ago; to protect and serve them, even at the cost of his own life. He would solve this case, or he would die trying.

It was sundown when Will rode back into town, his head low and his hat clutched in his hand. Even his horse, a buckskin Mustang named Cisco, trudged along with his head lowered. Townsfolk watched as he rode past in silence, despite the questions that left every mind reeling. Will stepped off his horse in front of the saloon and tied one rein to the hitching post, giving him a half-hearted pat on the neck.

"Good boy," he muttered, putting his dust-covered stetson back on. "Stay here. I'll be back soon." He turned away, his spurs jingling as he stepped up onto the porch.

"Deputy McClain, what can I get for you?" The owner of the saloon wore a smile as he got up from the poker table, though it never reached his eyes. His name was Thomas Banks. Will considered him a good enough sort of fellow, though aside from a friendly greeting here and there, they hadn't spoken much. All Will truly knew of the dark-haired man was that he'd come from New York at about the same time Will had been deputized, and had won 'ol Skinner's Saloon in a Poker game. He liked Banks' version of the saloon better, though. Skinner had been a greedy, hateful man, who only ever served the most watered-down whiskey he could find at a dollar a shot. At least now, a dollar was worth two shots of Rye or could buy a shot of Kentucky Straight. That was his choice tonight, he figured a few shots of aged bourbon would do him some good.

Ten dollars short, Will finally staggered out to his horse at around two in the morning. Cisco had been dozing at the post, but lifted his head to watch as his rider all but fell off the steps. Will grumbled and gagged until he'd finally hauled himself up into his saddle, and as his horse began to carry him home, Will's world rocked dangerously from side to side. By the time he made it home, he was slumped forward in his saddle, too drunk to keep himself upright.

He tumbled out of the saddle, a chuckle escaping his lips as he grappled with his balance and ended up on the ground. He lay on his back, gazing up at the sky, when he caught sight of his front door creaking open. The soft yellow light spilled out, casting a warm glow over the yard and revealing a figure standing in the doorway.

"Floyd William McClain, you had better have a good reason for this," Will flinched as the voice of his fiancée cut through the silence of nightfall.

"Victoria? What're you doin' here?" Will slurred, concentrating on gathering up his limbs so he could stand up again.

"I was waiting for you to get back so we could have dinner together. It seems you had other plans." The anger in her voice instantly sobered him. It occurred to him that they had planned to have dinner tonight all week, and he'd been so caught up with the case, he'd forgotten about it. Feeling about an inch tall, he finally managed to get to his feet. His eyes refused to meet hers.

"I'm sorry, Victoria... I was so caught up with everything, and I just couldn't... I forgot all about our dinner plans," he admitted quietly. He looked up as her footsteps landed in the grass ahead of him. Her jade colored eyes met his, studying him for a long moment. Then her expression softened and her hand came up to cup his cheek.

"You found another one, didn't you?" She whispered.

Will's composure finally shattered, tears welling up in his eyes as he nodded in silent acknowledgment. Only Victoria understood the depth of impact this case had on him. She alone had heard his anguished pleas for it all to end and had been the one to offer her comforting embrace as he'd cried out in terror in the dark. She had brushed away his tears when the guilt wore down on him and convinced him that he had no place as a lawman. This time was no different.

She didn't shush him as she instantly wrapped him up in her arms. Swaying slowly from side to side, she listened in silence as he cried. Her heart ached for her fiance. He had been through so much in his twenty-two years.

"Come, my love. Let's get you inside and into bed," she cooed, taking his hand and leading him into the house. He didn't argue with her. Once inside, he stopped to sit on the couch as the world around him began to spin. Victoria sat down with him, laying his head in her lap gently. Gentle fingers coursed through his blonde hair. Comfort washed over him as he closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.