Over the Barrel (4 page)

"I see.
 
I know I have heard your last name
before but could not quite place it.
 
Your grandfather isn't Malcolm Farbor, of Blue Sky Ranch, is he?"

"Yes."

 
"He's a big name in those
parts.
 
Got loads of money, holds
several water rights, and is very powerful in cattle country All this just
doesn't line up.
 
What's your story,
kid?"

"I should not…"

"Ma'am, I just killed a man for you
and possibly saved your life, as well as your virtue.
 
You owe me an explanation as to why you
are out riding the tracks without an escort, especially with a wealthy
granddaddy."

"Very well," Blair sniffed,
leaning against his chest and allowing herself to gain some comfort following
her harrowing experience, "Malcolm is my grandfather from my mother's
side.
 
When I was a child, my
parents died of consumption and I went to live with my aunt.
 
She forced me to keep the family name so
she would not be reminded of how much she hated my father."
 
Blair's voice grew sad.
 
"Grandfather Malcom doesn't even
know I'm coming.
 
Truth is, I've
never met him."

"And the reason you are traveling
unescorted?"

"My aunt had me removed from her
home because of my defiance.
 
Madeline, my maid, packed my trunks and a cheese-and-bread basket for
me, against Aunt Imelda's wishes.
 
She also put enough money in my purse for food and the stagecoach.
 
Aunt Imelda just wanted me to suddenly
disappear without a sound and without resources.
 
She is a very bitter, selfish old
woman."

"You poor girl.
 
That explains a lot, including your lack
of caution.
 
Well, Miss Farbor,
since you and I are heading toward the same destination, you may consider me
your traveling companion.
 
Manitou
Springs is rising with the finding of those gold veins up at Pike's Peak and
along with that, there is an influx of outlaws who are heading in to take what
they can.
 
It's a dangerous place
where you are heading.
 
Even more
for an unattached woman without the safety of an escort."

"I did not know that.
 
I have been begging for years for my
aunt to allow me to leave Philadelphia and move to my grandfather's.
 
I just imagined his ranch to be a nice,
big plot of land with nobody to tell me what to do," Blair said, suddenly
feeling very naïve.
 
"I know I
sound like a foolish child, but I could not breathe in the city.
 
She kept me confined in my room or at
the school, and it raised my ire.
 
I
just had to get out, and the only way I could consider accomplishing that was
to be unruly.
 
I was surprised that
she did not send Madeline to accompany me.
 
I suppose it was because she truly did not have concern about my
safety," Blair added sadly.

"Foolish or not, you have made your
choice and will now have to live with it.
 
Women are a scarcity here, and many a brawl has happened in the process
of trying to claim one.
 
To travel
alone risks death—or worse—for a gal such as yourself.

Up you go," Sloan said, helping her
to her feet.
 
He brushed the dirt
from her gown with his hand, ignoring her protest as he clapped dust from her
backside.
 
"Like it or not, I
am assuming the position as your protector until you are safely deposited in
your grandfather's care.
 
You are
not to leave my sight at any time, understand?"

"I did not request you to take
charge of my safety, nor do I desire it.
 
I can …"

"Take care of yourself?
 
Must I remind you what just happened
here?
 
See that?
 
It is a dead man.
 
One that was killed by a bullet that
came from my gun.
 
He was in the
process of raping you and you had no ability to defend yourself."

"I don't need a protector!
 
I just need a gun of my own!"
 
Blair stomped her foot.

"That is not going to happen any
time soon, Miss Farbor.
 
Not only do
you need someone to watch out for you, but you also might benefit from a good
strapping across your bare bottom.
 
You will mind me, follow my orders for your safety, and control that
little temper of yours until I see you home.
 
Defy me, and you will find yourself
bottoms-up over a barrel."

"How dare you speak to me with such
familiarity?
 
You have no
right!"

"I assume the right when a lady's
life is endangered.
 
More so when
that lady is a spoiled little girl."

"You self-righteous, son of a…"

"One thing I might warn you
about.
 
I am a God-fearing man, and
I do not seek entertainment with sordid characters, whores, or saloon
girls.
 
If I hear you swearing, I
promise to gather a switch and help you choose more appropriate ways to express
your discontent.
 
If you want to
survive to see your grandfather's ranch, then you will follow every order I
give you."

Blair glared at him.
 
There was no doubt in her mind that he
would follow through on his threats or that he would do what was required to
make his point.
 
She gathered her
skirts in her hands and stomped off back towards the train depot, determined to
put as much distance between her and Mr. Sloan Adkins as possible.
 
She abruptly stopped in her tracks as
the train disappeared down the railway.

"Looks like it left without
us," Sloan said calmly, fanning his face with his hat.

"What are we going to do?
 
I have very little money and all my
belongings are on that train."

Sloan shrugged.
 
"Guess we will just have to hoof
it."

"You wish me to WALK all the way to
Colorado territory?
 
From St. Louis,
Missouri?
 
That will takes
years!"

"It's about 800 miles to the
Peak.
 
Figuring about ten miles or
so a day on horseback, we are looking at three months travel time, assuming we
can get ourselves a couple of horses and a wagon.
 
We should reach there by the end of the
summer if all goes well.
 
Are you
crying again?" Sloan rolled his eyes.
 
"Toughen up, girl.
 
This
is not a tea party.
 
Show me some of
that grit that you were boasting about these last four days.
 
Follow me.
 
Play along and do not argue with
me.
 
If anybody asks, you are my
wife."

"I thought you loathed
fibbing."

"Sometimes lies are necessary to
keep you from being killed.
 
Unless
you have a better idea, I suggest you follow my direction.
 
Do you?"

"Not at this moment," Blair
pouted.
 
"I will have you know,
sir, that I do not appreciate being told what to do."

"You will have to either adjust or
get over it, girl.
 
You aren't in
the safety of pretty walls anymore.
 
Lift your chin and walk with confidence.
 
This is about survival, kid."

Blair numbly followed him through the
train depot and into the bustling remote area of the city.
 
Sloan confidently strolled down the
dusty street, nodding and greeting people as they passed, keeping Blair close
to his left side with a possessive grip.
 
He led her to the sheriff's office and pushed her inside.

"Can I help ya?"

Sloan nodded.
 
"You, sit," he ordered
Blair.
 
He spoke after she obeyed,
"There is a body in the depot.
 
Man attacked my wife and got himself shot.
 
The train left with all our
belongings.
 
I have urgent business
in Manitou that I need to attend to which includes dropping this little piece
of trouble off with a relative."

"I am not …"

"Silence!" he commanded.
 
"I have had enough of your
mischief.
 
If you had not been
batting your eyes at that man, he would still be alive and I would be closer to
being free of you once and for all."

The sheriff spat tobacco onto the dirt
floor and slowly pulled his boots off the top of the desk.
 
"That is what ya get when ya marry
them for their looks.
 
Don't have a
brain in the head,
 
do they?
 
Have ya tried a good beating?"

"I would if the prospect of touching
her did not disgust me so much," Sloan said bitterly, ignoring the very
real tears that were forming in Blair's eyes.
 
"Do you have any horses I can
borrow?
 
I can have a stable-hand
return them with payment after we arrive."

"Just being a Ranger would have
given ya a solid yes," the sheriff rose slowly and tucked his rifle in his
arms, "but being that you got yourself a handful of chit makes a man wanna
oblige even more.
 
Damn women and
their wanting rights like voting and wearing breeches.
 
Here's my stable.
 
Take yer pick.
 
You might wanna stay away from the white
one.
 
Bought it off of a fur-trader
who said a Comanche left the bastard on his hitching post and ran like the
wind.
 
Named him Skinwalker.
 
They said he's got a curse on him.
 
Hell, I can't pay anyone to take the
beast, and folks are too superstitious to put a bullet through its head."

"It's a horse.
 
How bad can he be?" Blair asked
snootily.

"You just keep your fingers away
from his mouth, so you don't find out, woman."

"Now, see here …"

"Enough, Blair.
 
Thank you for the warning, Sheriff.
 
I appreciate it."

"No problem, Ranger.
 
I'll go fetch you some supplies.
 
Remind yer lady not to get too
close.
 
Beast will take off her face
if she gets within reach," the sheriff warned as he touched the rim of his
hat and left the stables.

Sloan frowned as Blair stubbornly
approached the tall, white stallion and offered him her hand.
 
The horse nickered then stomped with his
ears laid back.

"Blair Lorraine!
 
Didn't you hear what the sheriff said
about that animal?
 
Get away from
that horse!"

Blair did not have a chance to retort
before the stallion lunged at the gate.
 
Startled, she fell backwards onto the ground.
 
Sloan raced to pick her up, not
hesitating to smack her sharply on the backside.

"You better start listening to me,
girl!
 
Next time, those skirts won't
protect you.
 
I have no intention of
making this trip any more difficult than it needs to be by fighting you every
step.
 
Get that into your head right
now."

Blair raged.
 
Her mind was washed free of common
sense.
 
She no longer cared about
the story designed to help get them mounts and lead them away from this city.
 
She gave no consideration towards the
opinions formed by the interfering, nosy busybodies that places like these were
famous for.
 
Abandoned were the
years of education in etiquette, poise and grace.
 
In one fell swoop, she relinquished all
propriety as she slapped Sloan across the face with all her strength.

"Do not ever touch me again!"
Blair screamed.

Sloan's eyes darkened and he slowly
inhaled.
 
"That was uncalled
for.
 
Girl, you have now earned
yourself a well-deserved spanking.
 
It is time for you to learn yourself a lesson that won't soon be forgotten"

His voice was low, gravely and tinged
with a smoldering anger.
 
Blair's
breath caught in her throat as, instead of reaching to stroke the red handprint
on his cheek, he began to roll up his sleeves.
 
He took a single step in her direction
and Blair's eyes immediately darted to seek out a means of escape, but Sloan
stood between her and the only way out.
 
With a frightened squeal, Blair opened Skinwalker's gate and scurried
into the stall.

"Are you addled?
 
Get out of there now, Blair!"