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Authors: Bobbi Smith

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BOOK: Defiant
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When Tuck, Ax, and Holt had first gone after the stagecoach, they had been confident it would be
easy pickings and the robbery would be over in no time. They’d expected the driver to give up after the first couple of shots were fired. Sure, there had been a man riding shotgun, but there were three of them and only one of him. They’d been shocked when one of the passengers had started firing out the side of the stagecoach.

Still, Tuck and Ax weren’t about to give up. Even when they’d seen Holt take a bullet, they had refused to quit. They rode even harder, wanting to stop the stage as quickly as they could. But when Ax was wounded in his shooting arm, Tuck knew it was over.

“Give it up!” Tuck yelled to Ax, who was still trying to keep up the pursuit in spite of his wound.

Both men were furious at their failure as they turned their horses away and rode off. There was nothing they could do about it, though, for Tuck was the only one who could still handle a gun. In frustration, they headed back to check on Holt.

“They’re quitting! They’re riding away!” Rachel cried out as she watched the outlaws give up their pursuit.

“Thank God!” Eve rejoiced. “Rachel—you were wonderful! You helped save us!”

“Yeah,” young Jacob agreed, still looking at Rachel in amazement and awe. He’d never known a lady like her before. “You can shoot real good.”

“Thanks.” Rachel sat back, trembling. She
smiled weakly at them from across the width of the stage. The gun battle had been frightening, but at least they were safe. When she realized she was still clutching the gun in a viselike grip, she quickly stowed it in her bag.

“You all right in there?” the driver shouted down to them.

Jacob leaned out the window and called out, “We’re fine. Miss Rachel helped save us!”

“Yes, she did, sonny. Now hold on tight ’cause we ain’t gonna stop ’til we’re in town! And tell Miss Rachel thanks. We sure appreciated her help.”

The boy sat back and grinned at Rachel. He was no longer terrified, but excited now that everything had turned out all right. “The driver said thanks.”

“I heard him.” She felt a little calmer.

“What does your father think about you using a gun?” Eve asked, still shaken by all that had happened. “He always preaches about loving one another and turning the other cheek.”

“It troubled him at first, but then he realized that there are times in life when you have to be able to defend yourself.”

“Like today,” Jacob put in.

“Like today,” Eve agreed, thinking once again how blessed they were that Rachel had been armed. She could only imagine what horrible things might have happened to them if the outlaws had managed to stop the stage. “I can’t wait until we get to town so we can tell Sheriff
Reynolds. The faster he gets a posse together and goes after those men, the better.”

“At least one of them was wounded, so that’ll slow them down a little and give him a better chance of catching up with them,” Rachel agreed.

“Let’s just hope he does. Men like those shouldn’t be on the loose.”

“Grandma? Do bad things like this happen a lot around here?” Jacob asked, worrying about the new town he was going to be calling home.

“No, darling—and we can be thankful about that.”

They all managed a little laughter as they eagerly anticipated reaching Dry Springs

Tuck was furious.

He’d thought it would be easy to rob the stage, but he’d been wrong.

And Tuck didn’t like being wrong.

“What the hell happened out there?” he snarled as he tied a makeshift bandage around the wound in Holt’s chest.

Holt was bleeding heavily, and Tuck wasn’t sure he would make it. They’d retreated to the place where they’d camped the night before, to regroup and try to figure out what to do next.

“I wish I knew,” Ax said in disgust as he tended to his own wounded arm. “It was almost like they knew we were coming and were ready for us.”

“If Rick and Walt had been along, things would have turned out different,” Tuck said,
missing their two cohorts. “Or even if we’d had John with us.”

Ax didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say. They’d gotten word that John had been killed, and they were due to meet up with Rick and Walt in Dry Springs in a few more days. They’d taken on Holt to replace John, but he’d proved useless in the holdup attempt today, and now he was wounded, so he wouldn’t be doing them any good for a long while—if ever.

“Rick and Walt should be showing up soon.” Tuck said. “Once they do, we can get something going for the boss.”

“We’d better. He ain’t gonna be happy when he hears what happened today.”

“You’re right. A posse will be after us real soon, so we’d better make some tracks.” Tuck looked at Holt. “You able to ride?”

“I’ll make it,” the wounded outlaw answered.

Tuck had his doubts, but a short time later, they were on the move.

The stagecoach didn’t slow down as it reached Dry Springs. It raced straight on down Main Street right past the stage depot and didn’t stop until it reached the sheriff’s office.

“Sheriff Reynolds!” the driver yelled as he reined in.

People from town had seen the racing stage and had immediately known something was wrong. They came running out of their homes and businesses to see what had happened.

“Somebody get the doc!” Joe ordered as he helped Hank down from the driver’s bench.

Sheriff Reynolds rushed out of his office. “What’s going on here?”

“A gang of outlaws tried to rob us!” Hank told him, grimacing in pain as he came to stand before the sheriff, holding his still bleeding upper arm.

“How bad’s your arm?” he asked.

“It’s just a flesh wound, but it could have been worse—a lot worse.”

“You’d better have the doc take a look at it. Nick—help Hank over to the doc’s,” the sheriff ordered his deputy. Then he looked back at the driver. “What happened out there?”

“Three of them came after us about five miles out of town,” Joe explained. He went on to relate everything he could remember about the attempted ambush.

“I’ll get a posse together, and we’ll ride out after them right away. How much did they get away with? What did they steal? What were you carrying?”

“That’s the amazing part,” Joe told him as he opened the stagecoach door to let his passengers out. “They didn’t get anything. We held them off—thanks to some help from our sharpshooting passenger.”

“Are you serious?” the lawman asked, surprise in his voice.

“Yes. Thanks to Miss Hammond, we were able to get away. I know she winged one of them for sure.”

“Rachel?” Pete repeated. He was shocked to find out that she was onboard and that she had been carrying a gun and knew how to use it.

“Yes, I’m here,” she called out to Pete from inside the stagecoach.

“You were all lucky,” Pete told them.

“I’ll say,” Joe said. “Without Rachel’s straight shooting, this would have been a whole different story. We might have all been killed. Hank was doing his best to hold them off, but there were three of them.”

Joe helped his elderly female passenger down first, then waited for the young boy to climb out on his own.

When Rachel appeared in the doorway, Pete moved past Joe to take her hand and help her descend. She smiled at him, finally feeling safe now that they were back in town.

“You were carrying a gun with you today?” he asked.

“After the other night at the Last Chance, my mother wanted me to carry it with me to make sure I was safe,” she told him. “And it’s a good thing she did.”

Pete looked down at Rachel and managed to smile. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Thank you, Rachel.” Joe interrupted Pete’s moment with her to speak with great sincerity. “We owe you a lot. I don’t think we would have gotten away from them without your help.”

“Miss Rachel was great,” Jacob chimed in, grinning proudly up at his new friend. “Maybe she
should start riding shotgun on your stagecoach all the time!”

“I don’t know about that, but you were wonderful,” Eve agreed, giving her a hug.

Rachel was embarrassed by all the praise. “I’m just glad we were able to get away.” She noticed Hank walking off with Nick and asked, “Is Hank going to be all right?”

“He should be. His wound didn’t look too serious. I think the outlaws are in a lot worse shape than we are,” the stage driver answered.

“It’s just good that you made it back safely,” Pete said. “Now, where did you say they tried to ambush you?”

Once Joe told him the exact location, Pete was ready to get his posse together.

“I’ll see you later, Rachel,” Pete said.

“Good luck finding them,” she told him.

Pete hurried off. He wanted to get on the trail as quickly as he could while the outlaws’ tracks were still fresh. If some of the gunmen had been wounded as the driver had said, there was a good chance he could catch up with them and bring them in. He wouldn’t stand for any outlaws terrorizing his town. He was going to see that justice was done.

The news of the stagecoach’s return and the attempted robbery reached Rachel’s parents quickly. They rushed over to the stage to check on Rachel, Eve, and Jacob.

“You’re all right!” Anne embraced her daughter. “I was so terrified when I heard the news!”

“We’re all fine,” Rachel assured her, wanting to calm her parents’ fears. As soon as her mother released her, she went to hug her father, too.

“Thank God,” Martin offered up.

“Thank God, indeed,” Eve repeated. “If you hadn’t suggested that Rachel accompany me to bring Jacob home, we might not be alive right now.”

“We’re glad you’re all here, safe and sound.”

“So are we,” Rachel agreed.

Martin looked over at young Jacob. “Welcome to Dry Springs, Jacob.”

“Jacob, this is Reverend Hammond. Miss Rachel’s father,” Eve quickly made the introduction.

“Is it always this exciting in Dry Springs?” Jacob asked him, looking around at the crowd of people who’d turned out.

“Thankfully, no,” Martin told him. “But now that you’re here with us, things just might get livelier around town.”

Jacob smiled at him.

“Are you ready to go home, Jacob?” Eve asked her grandson.

He looked up at her with a look of pure love in his eyes. “Yes, Gramma. Let’s go home.”

“I’ll send your bags over later,” Joe told Eve and Rachel as they started to leave.

“Thanks, Joe, and let me know how Hank is doing.”

“I will.”

“Rachel, thank you for everything,” Eve said.

They were surprised when Jacob impulsively threw his arms around Rachel and hugged her tight.

“Thanks!”

Rachel hugged him back, then watched as they started off, hand in hand, toward Eve’s home—the elderly widow and her orphaned grandson, ready to begin their new life together.

“What about you?” Martin asked his daughter. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Oh, yes,” she answered as she and her parents turned toward home.

Chapter Seven

The first week of the month was almost over, and Clint’s frustration had grown during the three days he’d been in town. He’d been keeping a constant lookout for anyone or anything suspicious, but had found nothing. He was beginning to wonder if the gang’s plans had changed.

Clint realized he had to be patient and wait it out, but it wasn’t easy for him.

He wanted revenge.

Clint was sitting at a table in the back of the Last Chance when older man ran into the saloon.

“Have you heard the news?” the man shouted to anyone who’d listen.

“What news, Ira?” Trey demanded. He knew it had to be serious from the way Ira was acting. It wasn’t often he got this excited about anything.

“The stage was robbed! Hank was shot! He and Joe just pulled into town. They’re down by the sheriff’s office!”

“How’s Hank? Is he dead?” Trey asked, worried.

“No. From what I could see, it looked like he just got hit in the arm,” Ira answered.

Clint was instantly alert. He wondered if this was the work of the Tucker Gang—if this was the way they were going to announce their arrival in the area. As casually as he could, Clint got up from his table and went outside to see what was going on. He joined the crowd in front of the sheriff’s office and listened to the talk around him to see if he could learn any details about the robbery.

“You mean there was all this shooting and the robbers didn’t get away with anything?” one man repeated in astonishment.

“That’s right! They didn’t get a cent!” another announced proudly. “That preacher’s daughter was on the stage, and she was carrying a gun!”

“Rachel had a gun?” someone else asked, shocked.

“That’s right, and from what I heard, she was damned good at using it, too! She helped run them off. Without her, this would have been a whole different story. As it is, Hank got winged, but he still managed to hold his own.”

Clint tensed as he listened to the conversation. It had troubled him to learn Rachel had been on the stage, but when he found out she’d been carrying a weapon, he was torn. Logically, he told himself all that mattered was that Rachel was back home safe, but knowing the threat
she’d faced during the robbery attempt disturbed him. If it had been the Tucker Gang and they’d known she was armed, they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her if they had managed to stop the stage.

The thought of Rachel being harmed by the bloodthirsty outlaws tore at Clint. He tried to deny his feelings. He fought against the rage that threatened to overwhelm him. He reminded himself over and over that he had no time for any emotional involvement with anyone.

He must not care about Rachel.

He must not care about anybody.

He had to be cold and calculating.

Clint kept his tone easy as he asked, “Where did it happen?”

“About five or six miles out of town,” the man answered. “Sheriff Reynolds is getting a posse together to go after them. Joe, the stage driver, said at least one of the outlaws was wounded—maybe two of them. With any luck, Sheriff Reynolds will be able to track them down and bring them in.”

“So none of the passengers were hurt?”

“That’s right. They all made it just fine—Eve and her little grandson and Rachel.”

BOOK: Defiant
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