An Outlaw's Silence (manxman)(second story in The Crane Gang series)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Zachariah sat on the porch, fighting sleep and sheer exhaustion as the stars danced on a nearby pond.

The doctor had locked himself in the room with his patients and had banned all others from it. The gang was out back but Zachariah had chosen not to join them.

Tensions and emotions were running far too high and the blame and accusations in their eyes when they looked at him were more than Zachariah had the strength to deal with just now.

"Why are you out here alone?" Eleanor's voice asked from behind him.

Zachariah stood quickly and turned to face her. "You're supposed to be in bed."

Eleanor wrapped the blanket she carried a little tighter around her shoulders. "I couldn't sleep."

The lantern light emphasized the dark circles around her wide eyes and the bruises on her arms. "I'm sorry they got you," Zachariah whispered.

Eleanor's brown eyes met his. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"Blame yourself."

"How can't I blame myself?" Zachariah snapped, whirling around and slamming his hand against the banister. "It is my fault that those two men are lying in there trying not to die and it is my fault that you were taken and they....."

"Don't talk about that," Eleanor quickly snapped.

Zachariah's stomach flopped when he saw what little color had been left in her cheeks drain. He should be angry—and it would come later when he had Clint in his sights—but for now all he could feel was bone deep sorrow and overwhelming guilt.

"I've lived a hard life, Eleanor. I made a career out of killing people because violence was the only thing I knew a damn bit about. I was damn good at my job too. I gave you a better life than you'd have had otherwise and we never had to worry about anything.

"But that killing... eventually it eats away at a man's soul and I had to quit. I thought I could give it up and walk away just like that." Zachariah huffed at his own ignorance. "But it followed me. And where did I lead it? Straight to your doorstep."

Eleanor shook her head as she sat down in the rocking chair looking thoroughly exhausted. "None of this is your fault. And I don't blame you. And I can promise you that when Wyatt wakes up, he won't blame you either."

"They blame me....I blame me."

"Some of them might blame you, Zachariah, but you have to forgive them for that and not let it get to you. It is human nature to look for someone to blame when we're afraid. Once Wyatt and Pete recover and things settle down, they'll see reason."

"And if they don't recover?" Zachariah whispered, the words too terrible to speak with much volume.

Eleanor picked at peeling white paint on the arm of the chair. "They will. Wyatt loves you, Zachariah. And he's strong and brave. He tried so hard to protect me and to free us. He wanted to come back to you so badly."

Zachariah couldn't remember a single time when he and his sister had had a discussion like this one. They'd both always been private and closed off; even with each other.