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Authors: Faye Adams

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BOOK: Lady of the Gun
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Ramsey shook his head. "I'm afraid not. You getting shot
made me realize it would be best for all of us if you simply died. Trying to get you to marry me was proving to be too much work." He raised the pillow again.

Cass saw the pillow and knew instantly what he intended
to do. "You'll never get away with this, Ramsey. Someone will find out what you've done. You'll hang."

"Do you really think I'm intimidated by those threats,
Cass?" He raised the pillow higher.

Cass brought her left hand up to fight off his attack. "I
won't let you," she said, breathing hard from her simple exertion.

Ramsey chuckled softly. "A
fighter until the end. I have to give you credit for that." He slammed the pillow down over her face.

Cass tried to scream, but the pillow muffled the sound.
She tried to fight with her left hand, but she was too weak. I'm going to die at Ramsey's hands, just like my family, she thought pitifully.

"What's the meaning of this?" Mrs. Wettle demanded as
she burst into the room. “Doctor!" she screamed. "Doctor!"

Ramsey looked up in surprise as
the shocked woman began screaming. Releasing the pillow, he ran away from the table and out of the room, shoving Mrs. Wettle into the wall. "Get out of my way!" he growled as he ran. Once outside, he raced to the back of the building and down the alley toward where he'd left his horse. "Damn that interfering bitch!" he hissed. "Now it'll be all the harder to kill that slut, Cassidy!"

Brett heard a scream and took off at a dead run toward
the sound. His heart beat wildly in fear as he neared the doctor's office. Had something happened to Cass? Shoving his way through the small crowd that had gathered, he found Mrs. Wettle huffing and puffing in the exam room while the doctor hovered over Cass. "What is it, Doc? She isn't . . .”'

The doctor turned to face him. "She'll be fine. But it was
close. Someone tried to kill her. Thank God Mrs. Wettle arrived when she did. Someone was trying to suffocate her."

"So
meone tried to kill Cass?" He stepped past the doctor and looked down at the woman he loved. "Cass? Are you all right? Please, darling, open your eyes."

Cass heard Brett's voice and opened her eyes slightly. The
struggle with Ramsey had sapped what little strength she had left. Trying to smile up at him, she tilted the corners of her mouth only a little. Wiggling the fingers of her left hand, she indicated she wanted him to take it in his and closed her eyes again when his strong fingers closed over hers.

Brett looked across the roo
m to Mrs. Wettle. "Who was it?"

Mrs. Wettle was fanning herself and taking deep breaths.
"It all happened so fast, but it looked like it might have been that Tylo boy. Ramsey, is it?"

"Ramsey!" Brett said through his teeth. "I'll kill that son
of a bitch," he hissed.

"Oh, dear," puffed
Mrs., Wettle.

"I'm sorry, ma'a
m," said Brett.

"That's quite all right, Marshal. I would call him worse
myself if I weren't a lady."

 

Chapter Twenty

 

Brett wouldn't leave Cass's side for the next few days.  He knew he'd catch up to Ramsey sooner or later, and Cass's safety was uppermost in his mind now. If Ramsey tried to kill her once, he might try again.

Cass slept most of the time. Her wound had begun healing, but her strength had been sapped
. There were a lot of things she needed to tell Brett, but she wanted to feel stronger before she did. On the morning of the fifth day after Ramsey's attack she awoke with a new feeling of strength in her limbs. "Doc, may I sit up?" she asked.

"F
eeling that much better, are we?" the doctor asked.

"I think so."

Brett had made a brief trip to the outhouse and was just walking back into the room when the doctor lifted her to a sitting position. "Doc, should she be doing that?" he asked, concerned.

"She thinks so. And the customer is usually right," he
teased.

"I feel much better, Brett," she said almost shyly
. He was so handsome standing there with his hands on his hips, concerned about her welfare.

Brett felt his heart do a flip at the sight of her smile
. He'd waited for days to see some sign that she was getting stronger, and here it was. A beautiful shy smile. Swallowing, he walked to her side. "You look better."

"Do I? I'm sure I look horrible. I haven't brushed
my hair in days."

"It looks fine to me."

Cass blushed. She had little on under the blanket, and the thought suddenly embarrassed her. “Doc, when can I get dressed?'

The doctor had been
preparing to change her bandage. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Any time you feel up to it."

"Today?"

"If, you say so. Just don't wear anything too elaborate. All those female corsets and chemises and such could make it difficult for me to check your wound."

Brett chuckled. "You don't have to worry about those
things with Cass, remember?"

The doctor blinked, then remembered that Cass rarely
wore feminine clothing. "Oh, yes, well, in that case . . ." He walked toward the exam table. "Any time you're ready would be fine." He reached for the top of Cass's blanket.

"Let's get this bandage changed," he said.

Cass grabbed the blanket with her left hand. "Ah . . . could we do this in a minute?" she asked.

"But why?"

Cass looked at Brett. "Would you mind waiting outside for a while?" she asked.

Brett frowned a bit. "Cass, I've been here for everything.
I sponged you myself for nearly two days."

"I know, but that was different. I was unconscious. I'm
not anymore, and I'd like some privacy," She blushed when she spoke.

Brett grinned at her. "All right, but I think you're being
silly," he said.

"She's being female," offered the doctor. '

"Oh, hush," she said.

Cass watched Brett leave the room, then allowed the doctor
to clean and re-bandage her wound. "How's it healing, Doc?" she asked.

"Seems to be doing well. You won't be able to move that
arm for a while yet, and you'll have a scar, but I think you should heal up good as new in several weeks."

"Good," she said. "Can I get up and walk around?"

"Don't see why not if you feel up to it."

"Can I go to the outhouse instead of using that horrid
bedpan?" she asked.

"I suppose."

Cass smiled, She was getting all the right answers. "What about riding? Would it hurt me any to ride?"

"Why on earth would you wa
nt to climb on a horse now?" he asked.

"I'
m not saying I'm going to. I just want to know if I could," she answered.

The doctor finished tying her bandage and began to organize
his supplies. "I wouldn't advise it, but it wouldn't kill you, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not asking anything in particular" I was just making
conversation,"

The doctor sighed. "All right, Cass. I'm f
inished here for now. May I call the marshal back?"

Cass pulled the blanket up to her neck again. "Ye
s, call him in."

Brett was smiling when he entered the room. "Doc told
me you were talking a mile a minute while he bandaged you."

"He did?"

"Yep. What were you saying?"

Cass thought for a moment about what she was going to
say. "I have several things to tell you, Brett," she said quietly. "But I'd really like to be dressed before I start'"

Brett sighed. He could sense that what she had to say was
important. "All right. I'll get you some clean clothes. Then will you tell me what's on your mind?"

"I promise."

An hour later Rosie was helping Cass pull on her trousers. "I don't understand why you won't let me help you into a dress. These things are so . . ."

"Ugly?" Cass supplied.

"No. I wasn't going to say ugly," Rosie insisted.

"Trousers serve my purpose, Rosie. Someday I'll wear
nothing but pretty dresses, but for now I need the freedom that trousers give me."

"But you don't need to do anything
right! now except recover," Rosie said.

Cass didn't answer. She did have something to do. "Do
you know where Brett and the doc put my guns?" she asked as nonchalantly as she could.

Rosie looked around the room. "I don't know. Maybe
here?" she said, crossing to an armoire that stood against the far wall. Pulling it open, she peered inside. "I should be a detective," she said. "Here they are, hanging safely on a hook, but you don't need them now."

"No. Are
my boots in there too?"

"Yes."

“Good. Just in case I need to go to the outhouse," she added.

Rosie nodded. "You're all dressed. Shou
ld I go get the men?"

"No, let me walk out to see
them." Cass started for the curtain. Halfway across the room she started feeling a little weak and swayed a bit.

Rosie rushed to her side. "You're overdoing it, you know.
Just because you're feeling some better today doesn't mean you're ready to rush out and conquer the world."

Rosie's choice of words amused Cass. She wasn't going to
conquer the world, just two men. Two very evil men.

Brett looked up at Cass and Rosie as they came through
the curtain. "You're dressed," he observed.

Cass nodded.

"I liked you better in a blanket."

"Brett!" she scolded.

Buster laughed. “I know I'd like to see someone in a blanket," he remarked.

Rosie turned three shades of scarlet and couldn't speak
.

Brett burst out laughing.

"You two are horrible," said Cass. "Rosie and I should just leave," she threatened.

"No, you don't," said
Brett, standing and putting his arm gently around her shoulders. "You’re going to come over here and sit down next to me. You owe me some conversation, remember?"

"I re
member." She looked expectantly at Rosie.

"Come on, Buster. We have to go now," she said, getting
the message.

Once a
lone, Cass didn't know where to start. Sitting down, she gathered her thoughts. She wanted Brett to know how she felt, to pour out her heart to him, to let him know she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But she also had to tell him about Ramsey. She wanted to explain why she had to finish what she'd started.

"Brett," she began.

Brett had taken the chair next to hers, and reached for her hand. "Yes?"

Cass relished the feeling of his strong fingers caressing
hers. His touch was sending little spasms of delight skittering up her arm. It was very distracting. “I want to tell you something."

"Yes?" he growled, leaning closer to her.

She shivered as her heart skipped several beats. "Actually, I have several things to tell you."

Brett bent forward and nuzz
led her neck, nipping at the tender skin there with his lips. "Go ahead," he breathed.

"You're not making this any easier," she said, her voice
coming out on a husky sigh.

"I'm not?" he asked innocently.

"Brett,.. I .., I love you," she whispered.

Brett's heart nearly exploded when he heard her words.
"I love you so much, Cass," he said, wrapping his arms gently around her so as not to hurt her. "I was afraid I'd never get to hear you say those words to me. When I saw you'd been shot I nearly died. Then when you developed a fever ..." He let his voice trail off at the memory.

Cass pulled back from him a
little. "You didn't let me finish," she said.

Brett gazed into her beautiful eyes. "What else did you
want to say?"

"I love you, but there's something I have to do before we
can be together."

Brett began to fee
l suspicious. "And what would that be?"

"I have to go after Ramsey."

Brett hit his thighs with the heels of his hands. "I knew you were going to say something ridiculous like that," he fumed. "I know Ramsey tried to kill you, Cass. I curse myself for leaving you and making his attempt possible, but believe me, I'm the one who's going to make him pay for that act, not you. I've only been waiting for you to get well enough for me to feel comfortable leaving your side."

BOOK: Lady of the Gun
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