Much Ado About Madams (30 page)

“
Enough!” Lucinda had about all of the madness she could tolerate. Gus and Titus didn’t agree with Midas—in fact none of them agreed at all. Meantime, those vigilantes were going to murder Reese! Grabbing the scattergun from behind the bar, she dashed out the door.

She propped the gun beside the barn door and tied the brothel’s only saddlehorse to the hitching post, then grabbed a saddle.
Lordy, it’s heavy
! Saddles didn’t look so blessed heavy when horses carried them. She heaved it as high as she could, but it landed half way up, hit the horse in the ribs, and he shied.

The saddle landed on the ground, along with her bonnet. She grabbed her hat, shook the straw off and firmly reaffixed it with the hatpin. Determined to get on Reese’s trail as soon as possible, she threw the saddle up again, but this time the horse danced away before the saddle was all the way up.
Piffle
!

“
Hold still, you . . . you flea-bitten nag!”

Three more times, she hefted the saddle with all her might, to no avail.

Now she didn’t know if she was madder at the horse or at the vigilantes. She could kill them all. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest and her palms were damp with sweat. She led the horse back into his stall.

She entered the mule’s stall and snapped the lead rope onto his halter. “Come on, boy,” she coaxed as she tugged. He didn’t move a muscle. Lucinda pulled harder, but he seemed mighty happy right there in his stall.

“
Sorry, mule, but you have to work today.” Luckily, the mule saddle weighed a lot less than the horse saddle and she had him ready to ride in a couple of minutes. She stuffed the scattergun into the scabbard.

Not being a horsewoman, Lucinda’s heart thumped just a little bit harder at the thought of getting on this wicked beast. She couldn’t leave Reese to the mercy of lawlessness, though. They wanted to kill him! With renewed determination, she put her left foot in the stirrup, but her dress tangled around her legs so she couldn’t swing her right leg over the mule’s back. Hrmph! Quickly, she glanced toward the door to see if anyone was looking, then she gathered her skirts up to her waist and hopped onto the infernal creature.

Mounted at last, she took up the reins, gave the mule a kick . . . but he didn’t move a muscle. After several more swift kicks, he ambled out the barn door, pausing to look longingly at his feed bin, then reluctantly walking down the road where they’d taken Reese.

“
Come on, you mangy beast!” She kicked and lunged in the saddle, as if that would make him move. Ha!

He ambled. Growing more frustrated, she barely held back the tears that theatened. Reese could already be dead! “You can go faster than this. Git up!”

Midas galloped past her on the horse.

“
Oh!” She kicked the mule hard. He moseyed. She could barely breath from desperation, and this...this animal just wouldn’t go any faster. She kicked him and slapped him on the behind. He flinched a bit, but didn’t speed up.

“
Run, you stupid animal! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.” She kicked and slapped him again, to no avail.

Ten minutes later, the wagon passed her. Titus drove and Gus rode shotgun, and all seven ladies had piled in, too.

Tears broke through her firmest resolve not to cry. She screamed at the mule and kicked him again. His gait remained the same. Why, oh, why, did this stupid mule even exist? He’d be bear food by tomorrow, she vowed.

Just then he lurched to a stop, jarring her bonnet over her eyes.
Piffle, piffle, piffle!
She yanked off her hat with one hand and grabbed the hatpin with the other. She tossed the worthless bonnet on the ground, grabbed the reins and the saddlehorn with her left hand, and jabbed the hatpin right in the mule’s butt.

Nearly unseated, she hung on for dear life. The mule raced fast as the wind. Lucinda flopped around like a sack of loose flour and watched the ground speed by.

She passed the wagon.

She passed Midas.

The cinch loosened and the saddle slipped to the right. The mule raced nearly as fast as Lucinda’s heartbeat. She clamped her thighs as tight as she could and gripped the pommel until her knuckles whitened. The ground flew by so fast that it was nothing but a blur. She dared not look, knowing she’d surely be killed if she fell off. Her muscles ached but she certainly would not pull the mule to a stop, even if she thought she could.

Rounding a bend, she grabbed his scraggly mane and hide, or whatever she could grasp to keep from toppling off. The saddle slipped even farther to the right. Instinctively, she pressed into the left stirrup to right herself.

Just as she managed to get back on top, the blasted mule locked all fours and skidded to a stop, hurling both her and the saddle over his head. She and the saddle bashed into a tree. Stunned, she watched the devil-possessed mule trot back to town.

When her wits returned, she flexed her neck, arms, and legs to see if she could still move. They all ached, but they all functioned. The scattergun still stuck in the saddle scabbard, and the ammo pouch hadn’t been lost, either.

Men’s shouts and jeers came from nearby. It must be the lynch mob! She grabbed the gun and a handful of shells, inserting one in the chamber as she ran toward the noise. Her legs tangled in her skirts when she tried to jump a log and she fell flat on her face, skinning her chin and both palms.

She spat out dirt and pine needles. Exhausted, she dragged herself to her knees—when she spied them tossing a rope around Reese’s neck. Someone had to do
something
.

Reese and the horse faced away from her. One man held Buster’s reins, another adjusted the noose. The rest of the scoundrels milled around, waving their rifles in the air and shouting disgusting words. The men were congregated in a canyon, most of them under an old tree with a big branch—a perfect hanging tree.

She gathered her bothersome skirts and crawled forward, until she got to the very last tree over the rowdy mob. Pointing the heavy gun at them as best she could, she yelled, “Cut him loose, or I’ll shoot!”

The man with the rope yelled, “What do we have here? One of McAdams’s precious whores?”

Lucinda set her mouth and took aim, trembling.

He guffawed and slapped his knee. “We’ll have a little piece of you after we take care of business.”

In no mood to negotiate, she squeezed the trigger. The scattergun exploded.

The recoil blew her head-over-teakettle, and her other shells landed in the dirt. She sprang back up and peeked around the tree.

Men and horses ran everywhere. Reese lay crumpled face-first on the ground—covered with blood, the rope still around his neck.

I killed him!
She threw the gun down and ran, not caring what happened to her. Reese needed her. Gunfire sounded all around. Just as she reached him, something hit her in the backside and catapulted her on top of him.

At least I won’t die a virgin
, she thought as the black curtain of oblivion fell over her.

Chapter 16

Hearing the crack of gunfire, Gus and Titus leapt off the wagon before it even came to a stop. Fannie jumped off and watched as the two men disappeared in the draw beside the road. She knew they headed into certain death, and mild-mannered Gus had no business being involved with these dangerous antics. Hell, he didn’t even own a gun.

“
Be careful, damn your hides!”

Neither one of them heard her, but it made her feel a little better.

The ladies gathered around her and fretted as the men made their way to Midas, who held a prime position over the vigilantes. But not prime enough for one man to take on a dozen.

“
You all got your derringers loaded and ready?”

The ladies nodded.

“
C’mon, let’s get rid of some business!”

Fannie led the charge down the hill, all of them screaming like banshees.

“
For Pete’s sake, shut up!” yelled Titus.

Fannie motioned for the ladies to fan out. “We got you surrounded!” she called out to the gang of men below. “Fire, ladies”

Derringers sounded like lethal popcorn. The lynch mob scrambled for cover behind any twig or rock they could find. Fannie puffed her chest with pride. They’d get every one of those dirty bastards.

A shot rang out, and a hunk of tree splintered just barely above her head. She gulped. Maybe this wouldn’t be so easy, after all.

Rounds flew from both sides. A vigilante fell to the ground, holding his leg. Another dragged him back behind a scruffy sagebrush.

“
Keep your heads down,” Gus yelled, only to have a shot zing by his ear and ricochet off a boulder.

“
Gus Stone, get your scrawny ass down before you get hurt!”

But he didn’t heed her advice. A more stubborn man, she’d never met. What the hell did he think he could do?

“
Hold your fire!” Gus held a stick with his stained white neckerchief tied to it. They blasted the stick in two.

“
Dammit all! I said
hold you fire
!”

Fannie sucked in her breath when they did as he ordered. She smiled at his victory. Somehow, he seemed very much in command—not the same Gus that had hung around the Comfort Palace for the last year or so.

“
I’ll make you a deal,” he shouted. “You pick your best man, and I’ll draw against him. If I win, we take McAdams and the girl. If you win, you can have them both.”

Fannie crawled over to him. “What in the ever lovin’ hell to you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“
Getting us out of a no-win situation, ma’am.” He pulled her close and gave her a downright eye-popping kiss. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He stood, still hidden behind the tree. “I’m coming down, now. If any one of you so much as wiggles your trigger finger, my partner here, who was a sniper in the war, will take out the man with the blue coat. Do you understand?”

No one answered. Fannie chewed her fingernails, then hid her face. She damn well wasn’t going to watch him get himself blown to smithereens.

“
Do you understand?”

The man in the blue coat yelled, “Yeah. We got it.”

Gus made his way down to the bottom of the draw and walked as straight and tall as any king. “One of you loan me a sidearm.”

The bastards laughed.
Laughed
. Those bastards! Her Gus was too good to laugh at.

One of them laid a pistol down on the ground. Gus strolled over, his eyes taking in every movement. “I’m going to check the cylinder for ammo, then, when I’m satisfied, you pick your man and I’ll kill him.” He kneeled and retrieved the pistol, spinning the cylinder. He dumped the bullets into his hand, looked at them, then reloaded and nodded once. “I’m ready.”

Fannie bolted from behind the tree, but Titus grabbed her and pulled her back. “He’s a man, Fannie. Let him do a man’s work.”

The man in the blue jacket came forward with a scrawny looking fellow. “This here’s Amos. He’s killed nine men, and you’ll be number ten.”

“
I reckon he’ll just have to be satisfied with those nine.” Gus jammed the borrowed Colt into his belt and paced to the right. “Anytime you’re ready, waddy.”

Amos went for his gun. Gus shot him and three others who’d drawn their weapons in no more than a second. Fannie couldn’t hold back the tears.

“
Holy shit!” The man in blue ran for his horse, waiting on the other side of the draw. “It’s Lightning Blackie. Put your guns away, boys, we’re leaving.”

Fannie couldn’t breathe or think, but those damnable tears kept falling. Gus was still alive, and he’d saved both Reese and Miss Sharpe—at least he did if they were still alive. She’d been so worried about Gus, she hadn’t even noticed.

Gus climbed up to her, and she threw herself into his arms. “You did it, Gus Stone, and you’re still kicking!”

“
Quit those tears, woman, you’re getting my shirt all wet.”

She wiped her face on her sleeve and smiled at him. “Let’s go tend to Reese and Miss Sharpe.” She held his hand tightly as they walked to the tree.

Midas knelt beside Reese who had sat up, trying to get his bearings from the looks of it. Reese looked up at Gus. “Thanks. I’ve never seen such fine marksmanship.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Who the hell’s Lightning Blackie?”

Gus made a low sweeping bow. “Augustus Blackstone, ninth Earl of Chippenham, at your service.

Fannie snorted. “Sure, and I’m the fuckin’ Queen of England.”

He smiled at her and hugged her to him. “She doesn’t have your courage, I’m sure.”

* * * * *

Something gentle brushed her cheek.
“I’m so sorry they hurt you.”

It’s Reese. I love him so much, why does he have to be so kind? It only made matters worse, even in her dreams.

“
I’ll get him, Lucinda. He won’t hurt you again. Ever.”