The Lady and the Lawman (11 page)

Her
pulse raced, awaiting the approaching danger, not in the least
reassured by his words. She heard the unmistakable sound of him
cocking the gun. So the weapon really was loaded. All thoughts of a
peaceful resolution were forgotten at the clicking noise. Her heart
galloped faster than the horses coming closer and closer. Her fear
was so great she could taste it, the bile in her stomach making her
nauseous.

The
first shot missed them both, but came close enough to make her
scream, as well as startle the horses. They were quickly surrounded,
with only the animals breathing hard and the sound of restless hooves
breaking the silence. Was it five or six men silhouetted by the
moonlight? The shadows were so deep, it was difficult to tell.

“
Sheriff,
what are we going to do?” she whispered, hoping he had a plan of
action.

A
shout came from the darkness before he could reply. “You have
something that belongs to me, Masterson.”

She
heard the sheriff swear under his breath. If it were any other time
and if she weren’t so scared, she might have taken offense at his
inappropriate language. But this big, solid man was all the
protection she had from the men that surrounded them.

“
Damn
it, Dalton. Now what?” the sheriff shouted back.

She
sucked in her breath. Oh no! There was no way she was going with
that...that evil man and his cronies.

“
You
heard me.”

“
It’s
the middle of the night. I’m tired. Come by my office in the
morning and we’ll settle this then,” Grant replied, obviously
trying to keep the peace, and hopefully her, right where she was.

“
I
don’t think so, Masterson.”

All
hell broke loose. Dalton’s men drew in and formed a tight circle.
She still couldn’t see much of the men’s faces even with the
moonlight casting everything in a ghostly light. She deliberately
pressed her back firmly into the sheriff for safety and felt the arm
holding the reins squeeze into her side, a tacit reassurance. As if
he could protect her from six armed men. He might be big, strong, and
very brave, but six guns were more than any man could handle.

One
of the men boldly grabbed her arm, trying to unseat her. She screamed
and struggled to pull free. Luckily, with him holding the reins, she
had leverage to break the evil grip.

Another
shot rang out from the group of men, but this time he returned
fire—until he made a strange noise, followed by short, panting
breaths. The horse’s head lowered to the ground from the slack on
the reins. Why wasn’t he controlling the horse? The question barely
formed in her mind when she felt her right leg dampen, a warmness
seeping down her dress.

Blood.
The sheriff had been shot! She wasn’t sure how the bullet had
missed her, since she sat directly in front of him. She felt lucky to
be in one piece. The thought prodded her into action. If the sheriff
was injured, it was up to her to save them both. “Give me the
reins, Sheriff,” she wh
ispered
so only he heard.

“
No,
I’m fine,” he hissed, before firing off another round.

She
was deafened by the noise. “You are not fine,” she scolded. “With
only one good leg, you can’t fire and control the horse without
falling off.”

“
I
want what is rightfully mine, Masterson. Give me my horse and the
woman. Otherwise, we’ll finish this here and now.” Dalton,
insistent as he was, clearly didn’t know the sheriff had been shot.

She
had to take action! Otherwise, they’d both be dead within a matter
of minutes or even seconds. Without thinking, she slid out of his
safe hold, off the horse and onto the ground.

“
Damn
it, Maggie, what the hell are you d
o
ing?”
the sheriff snapped
,
reaching for her in the dark.

“
What
do you think?”
You
idiot
,
she wanted to add. “I’m trying to save us,” she said, her voice
overly loud without any gunfire.

“
I
see the woman is smarter than you are, Masterson.”

Walking
over to Dalton’s fancy horse, she quickly untied the lead, breaking
the connection with the sheriff. She quickly swung up onto the
mount’s back and grabbed hold of its soft mane for dear life before
anyone could contradict her actions.

“
Maggie—”

Kicking
her heels into the stallion’s withers, she clucked her tongue to
spur the animal into motion. Eager to oblige, he took off like a
cannon through the throng of men. They were too startled by her
unexpected escape to stop her, and she sprinted through the darkness
before they could think to turn and follow her.

With
luck, enough distance could be gained between her and the dangerous
men. She was the reason they were ambushed in the first place. If she
could draw the men away from the sheriff, he’d be safe. Unless he
was already dead from his wound.

She
didn’t want a dead man on her conscience, even if he was a complete
stranger. Except he wasn’t exactly a stranger. He’d kissed her
and touched her, not only physically, but in ways no other man had
before. He’d rescued her from Croft’s, protected her from the
other men in the saloon, and saved her from the life of a whore. Even
while shot, he tried to keep her safe. She owed him at least a
fighting chance to get away.

Sporadic
gunfire continued in the background as she dug her heels into the
horse’s flank again, pushing him harder. Wind made tears come to
her eyes and slide down her cheeks. It was difficult to hear if
someone followed, her horse’s hooves charging over the flat terrain
blocked out everything around her. She looked over her shoulder as
hair whipped into her eyes, and saw no pursuers in the darkness.

Slowing
after a few minutes, listening to the night, she allowed time for the
animal to rest. All was quiet except for the rustling of the grass
against the wind and the howl of a wild animal she guessed to be a
coyote on the prowl. She patted the horse’s sweaty flank in
gratitude at their narrow escape. It was obvious why Dalton hadn’t
wanted to part with this animal. He was a true thoroughbred.

She
debated what to do. Should she go back to see if Grant had escaped
Dalton and his men? Maybe she should head back to town and find help.
Surely, this lawlessness should be punished.

Don’t
be a dolt, Margaret! You weren’t followed. You’ve got the
opportunity to leave this place behind, continue on with your plan.
Get to California and answer the ad as intended.

Today's
calamities had sidetracked her from her original destination,
answering an advertisement for a mail-order bride to escape a forced
marriage. She was at a crossroad. One path led to California, to the
mail-order husband who awaited her arrival. She could leave this
whole day, this whole mess she’d tumbled into, behind her. But
could she leave the sheriff behind, not knowing if he lived through
his wound, let alone the gun battle that followed?

Then
there was the other path. The one that led back to Sheriff Grant
Masterson. She turned the horse around to search for the man she'd
abandoned, as if she could see him through the
darkness
,
slumped over his saddle, or even worse, bleeding into the grass as he
died alone on the ground. The stage driver, his dead body bent in
the grass, came to mind. Only yesterday, his blood had seeped into
the hard, sunburned prairie and his blank eyes had been staring
toward the heavens.

The
sheriff, from the little bit she knew of him, appeared to be an
honorable man. Yes, he’d plied her with kisses and his hands did
things she’d never imagined possible, but when she’d shared the
truth of her predicament, he’d been a true gentleman. William
didn’t have an honorable bone in his body, which she'd learned the
hard way. Never would, either. The man was like a leech she’d found
on her leg from the pond behind her summer home. Once married, he’d
suck the life blood from she until she was nothing left but an empty
shell of a woman. Her money, too. And that was quite an undertaking,
since she was one of the richest women in America. He'd taken her
virginity. She swore he'd take nothing else.

The
sheriff also listened to her—actually listened, something else
William never did. When things were at their worst, Grant had saved
her.

With
a click of her tongue, she spurred the horse and herself into action.
He'd s
aved
her from the life of a...well, a horrible life.
Whatever
the consequences, she needed to help Grant Masterson.

The
faint staccato of distant gunfire came from the direction of town.
Who were they shooting at? They couldn’t be firing at Grant. She’d
ridden quite a distance, hadn’t she? Maybe she was turned around.
Dear Lord, what would she do if she couldn’t find the sheriff again
in this inky
blackness?
Her heart twisted a little at the thought of him all alone defending
himself, injured as he was, from those awful men. But they had
followed her, so there was hope.

The
shots stopped almost as quickly as they’d started, with retreating
hooves becoming quieter as riders rode off into the blackness. It was
the lull she’d been waiting for. Hoping she still headed in the
right direction to reach Grant, she pushed her horse on once again,
this time at a slower pace so she wouldn’t miss him.

After
what seemed like hours, she heard a horse snickering to her left, and
angled toward the sound. There she found him, off his horse but
standing. He was trying to tie a bandanna around his leg, without
much luck.

Swinging
down off of her horse, her dress swirling about her legs, she rushed
to his side. The air was warm around them. “Here Sheriff, let me do
that.” Not allowing him time to argue, she took the cloth, wrapped
and then knotted it tightly around his thigh.

His
breath hissed sharply through his clenched teeth. “Thank you,” he
replied.

“
Is
the bullet still in your leg?” she asked, her voice suddenly shaky.

“
I’m
not sure, but at least the bone isn’t broken.”

Pain
etched his face with deep creases, his jaw tense, evident even in the
darkness. His gaze burned into her eyes, making her forget everything
that had just happened to them. She thought of his touch, his mouth
on hers. Wanting him to kiss her again, she needed to feel the
closeness only he could offer her. She wanted his comfort...to
comfort him in return.

“
What
the hell did you think you were doing?” he snarled.

Wide-eyed,
she stared at him for a moment until his words sank in. “I was
saving you.” The wind kicked up and she brushed her hair away from
her face and over her shoulder to have it hang loose down her back.
“You’re welcome, by the way.” She wasn’t pleased with his
lack of consideration.

“
Saving
me? You could have gotten us both killed!”

The
man was furious with her for saving his life. She couldn’t believe
what she was hearing. He should be thanking her, the lout! How dare
he be angry!

“
You
were shot, God knows where. You couldn’t even control your horse,”
she pointed out, standing her ground.

“
I
was fine,” he growled.

“
Fine?
Fine? You can barely stand.” She poked
her
finger against his hard chest.
“If I hadn’t led those men away from you, who knows what would
have happened to you?”

“
I
had everything under control when you decided to take things into
your own hands!”

They
were both shouting, even though they stood mere inches apart.
Margaret
could feel his breath on her face.