The Teacher's Star

miles from one end of the ranch to the other. With the afternoon light waning, he cautioned himself to stay alert as he rode the black hard over the uneven ground. Injuring his animal wouldn’t get him to the shack any sooner.
Deputy Will didn’t seem the type of man he’d want to take to a gun battle. Rol didn’t bother even once to look over his shoulder to check if the man was keeping up with him. Secretly, he thought the man might be more trouble than help.
Still several hundred yards from the cabin, he saw a figure step out of a small stand of trees. He made cautioning movements with his hands. Paps!
Reining in, Rol dismounted in one smooth movement. Keeping his voice low, he slipped into the role of a lawman. “What do you know about the scene?”
Paps looked beyond him and held up his hand, palms out, in a stopping motion. As Will reined in his weary horse, he lost his balance and tumbled from the saddle with a loud oath. Both Paps and Rol hushed him.
“Canyon behind my line shack is blocked off.” The man’s tone was bitter, his face stony. “Sounds like a good-sized herd’s in there. Sheriff’s sent a man up top to count the number of men working the cattle.”
When Paps stayed silent, the younger man rushed out his question. “My girls? Any sign of them?”
The old man actually laughed in a low, amused sound. “Wondered if you’d ask after that woman I helped you get.”
To Rol’s way of thinking, now wasn’t the time for teasing. He growled low in his throat and tried again. “Has anyone seen them?”
Paps nodded. “Bout an hour or so ago. Your Eenie was riding hellbent for leather in the direction of town. Said her ma freed her but was caught. Sent her on to the doc’s to be checked over.”
Before continuing, the old man shook his head.  The movement erased any relief the husband felt at hearing Eenie was out of danger. “No one’s been able to get close enough to the line shack to see if the teacher’s inside.”
Not too far from where they waited, the report of a rifle echoed. “Must have been in the canyon.”
This was why Rol didn’t like working with small-town lawmen. They were sloppy and often trigger happy.
Pops from multiple hand guns. Blasts from shotguns. The area became a battle scene quickly. He grabbed the rifle from the saddle scabbard after ground tying his mount. Slipping through the scant cover of the few trees, he headed in the direction of the line shack and his woman.
No matter his sworn duty, at that moment Rol’s vow to be a good husband weighed heavier on him than his vow to fulfill the warrants he held. He would do everything in his power not to lose another wife.
Low, nearly inching worm-like on his belly, he made his way to the spot where the sheriff and two others were making a stand. “How’s it looking?”
Knight scowled. “Two are down. Not sure yet how many are in the canyon.” Then he pointed with his shotgun barrel toward the shack. “Got the one guarding it. Should be okay. If you use some stealth.”
Caution had Rol crawling low to the cabin. Each step reinforced the idea that his career as a marshal needed to be his past. He crawled inch by inch toward his future.
At the door, he stood. Opening it so that he stood behind the door, he waited for one of the gang to come out, handgun firing. When he heard nothing more than the loud crack of wood, Rol slipped into the shack.
Shot gun barrel pointing from one side of the room to the other, the lawman in him relaxed at seeing no one guarding his wife. The sight of his wife had him smiling in admiration. Not at her beauty. No, he smiled at her determination to free herself.
The woman sat amidst the pieces of a broken chair. She’d almost liberated her arms from the ropes. As he’d entered, he saw her moving and twisting her shoulders to do so. He had one spunky lady.
The panic on her heart-shaped face turned to relief. Something more shone from her tear-filled eyes. Could that be love?
Her next words had him doubting that. “Come on and get me out of these ropes. Unless you want me to take a piece of this chair to your head when I do get free.”
Relief caused laughter to erupt from him. He needed to get her to safety and here he stood laughing like a buffoon.
Willing himself to show more caution, he moved to her and pulled the ropes off her shoulders. She’d nearly freed herself and he couldn’t have been more proud.
Once Rol moved the ropes, Delia wiggled, slipping from the rest of them. Except for her feet. He knelt by her and cut those with a knife from his belt scabbard.
“We have to get you to safety.” As they both stood, he ignored his own caution and grabbed the woman close to him. He didn’t kiss her. Merely clutched her to his heart and mentally sent a prayer of gratitude to God.
Soft words whispered below his chin. “Shouldn’t we get moving?”
“I have to hold you and convince myself I haven’t lost another wife.” His hands trembled slightly as the words slipped from him.
“Did someone murder her because of your job?” The question didn’t seem to fit the situation they were in. Still, he answered it.
“Not really. She couldn’t stand to be alone. One night, she emptied a bottle of laudanum. Then she waded into the lake near our house.” A sigh that carried a groan hissed from him. “Deborah just couldn’t get past her glumness after having the baby.”
He rubbed his chin gently over her slick hair, thinking