SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (222 page)

Then he would relax, and not until then.

Satisfied that the horses were secure, he made his way back to the street. With his shoulders square and his head held high, he entered the noisy saloon. The smell of cigar smoke and whiskey assaulted his nostrils as he shouldered his way through the crowd to the bar.

Though much more sedate in comparison to the raucous mob at The Acme Saloon, the bar was still boisterous and filled to capacity with every gambling table engaged.

* * *

Wyatt stood nonchalantly at the opposite end of the bar at a perfect vantage point to observe all the activity in the room.

He observed Jackson, busy behind the bar with customers, glance up to meet Will McLaurey’s stare as he walked through the door, nodding to him just before had made his way to the Faro table in the back of the room. Next, Jackson looked to the end of the bar and met
his
stare. He didn’t nod, but instead rose one hand and wiped his mustache as though a hair might be out of place.

From Jackson’s descriptions of the McLaurey brothers, Wyatt had recognized young Dean the moment he’d entered the saloon. He’d watched him order a beer at the bar and quickly get settled at the Faro table, just as planned. The thought crossed his mind that he seemed awfully green to be involved in such a murderous plot. But he was a McLaurey.

When Will came in a few minutes after Dean, Wyatt felt his skin crawl. It would be a pleasure indeed to see his ugly face behind bars. He hoped to God things went smoothly. Will McLaurey was a dangerous man.

“Excuse me, sir.” Rose’s cheerful voice interrupted Wyatt’s serious thoughts.

Tonight she was dressed in a red satin dress she’d borrowed from Josie, and she had transformed herself into a thing of beauty. Setting down a tray full of glasses on a table nearby, she nodded that she too had seen that both McLaurey brothers had arrived
.

Wyatt gave her a slight grin and a wink of acknowledgment. He hoped the young woman had the sense to stay on this side of the room when things erupted. Though he had been dead against having her so close to a potentially dangerous situation, he had decided to follow his hunch that, for some reason, this stranger was supposed to be there. At least Josie was safe in the back, as far away from the action as possible.

As he began to make his way along the long bar and toward the back of the room, where Dean and Will sat next to each other at the Faro table, he counted a half-dozen men seated at the card table while several onlookers watched the game and cheered on the winners of each hand.

Wyatt flinched at the sound of a gunshot in the distance, a forewarning of what might be happening here within the next few moments.

As he paused at the other end of the bar, he slid the door of a hidden panel built into the face of the gleaming mahogany wood. Tucked inside was his Buntline Special. He hadn’t had to retrieve it until now. With one smooth movement, he tucked the gun inside his coat and closed the panel to the hidden shelf.

* * *

At the same moment that Taylor saw Wyatt retrieve the hidden weapon, Jackson caught her gaze. By the look on his face, she guessed he felt the same trepidation she did. The instant he realized she was looking at him, his expression changed to one of confidence and, what, good humor? The man was an actor, probably doing his best to ease her anxiety.

Time to get ready.

Taking his place at the end of the bar closest to the card tables, Jackson waited for Dean and Will to begin their staged fight—his signal to join them.

Taylor had felt a sudden chill as she’d watched Wyatt tuck his gun into his coat. It was really happening
. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea after all...

“I’m here, and don’t you try anything heroic.”

Comforted by her father’s response and parental concern, Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. She wondered if everything would turn out all right. She wondered if her father knew how it would turn out.

Dad—what if
...?  As soon as Taylor began the thought, she felt her father’s presence disappear. Believe in a positive outcome. Believe in a positive outcome. In her mind, the phrase repeated itself like a mantra as she looked for a safe place to wait, hopefully out of harm’s way.

* * *

“Hey, keep your stinkin’ hands away from my chips!” Dean bellowed, his voice rough with anxiety.

It was time.

“Shut-up and place your bet,” Will growled. He had noticed Wyatt moving closer to them and he could see that Jackson was watching from the end of the bar. So far, so good.

Dean gave him a shove, knocking him off his chair to the floor and the crowd around the table took a step away from the scuffle, probably sensing things were was about to escalate into a brawl.

Will gave Dean’s chair leg a swift kick, sending him scrambling to his feet.

“I’ll teach you—” Dean sputtered, dropping to the floor to fake a choke hold on him.

Making a quick glance toward Jackson, he saw him pull the small revolver out from his vest pocket, just as planned.

When Wyatt arrived at the Faro table, he pulled his Buntline Special from beneath his coat And Dean turned his head to stare at the legendary lawman…just as planned.

Will watched as Jackson came up directly behind Wyatt, his revolver drawn and pointed at the back of the Marshall’s head.
By God, the kid was going to do it
. Maybe he’d misjudged him after all.

“Kill him, Jackson!” Dean shouted. “Kill the murdering bastard!”

Will winced as he heard his brother’s words. “Shut-up, you idiot!” With Dean’s hands still clenched around his throat, Will pushed himself up onto his elbows. Suddenly, he sensed an unexpected movement. Stars exploded and his head filled with the searing pain of metal against his skull as he realized the Marshall had brought a gun against the side of his head

The blow knocked Will out cold.

* * *

With a frightened gasp, Dean released his hold on his brother’s neck and watched helplessly as Will’s head hit the floor with a sickening thud.
Something was wrong!
Why hadn’t Jackson shot the Marshall when he’d had the chance? He looked up in time to see Jackson lower his revolver and grin at Earp.
Double-crossed.!

With the fury of a cornered rat, Dean flung himself toward Wyatt, knocking him off balance just long enough to make a leap toward the doorway to the back room.

Dean McLaurey disappeared into the hallway and with a painful smack, ran directly into Josie Earp. Her piercing scream sent a shot of adrenaline through him and he angrily clapped his hand over her mouth.

“Shut up!”

“Let her go!” Wyatt shouted from the end of the hall.

With surprising grace, Dean ducked behind Josie and swung her around so that she faced Wyatt. She became an instant shield to Wyatt’s pointed gun. With one arm around Josie’s waist and the other tightly around her neck, he began to slowly back away.

“Stay away from me,” Dean warned, his voice cracking with the strain of his growing panic. Pointing at the crowd gathering in the hallway, he sputtered, “No…no-no-nobody comes near me. Get them away from me!”

* * *

Wyatt motioned for the curious onlookers to move out of the hall and back into the saloon. “I’ll handle this,” he assured them, “get back inside.”

With his gaze locked on his love, he waited helplessly while Jackson and Rose stood silently behind him.

The three of them watched as Dean backed his way into an open room, slamming the door closed.

Slowly, Wyatt dropped his gun.
How had this happened?
This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“What do we do?” Rose whispered.

Wyatt brought a finger to his lips, and motioned for her to stay put and motioned to Jackson to come with him. As he and Jackson inched their way down the hall, floor boards creaked ominously as they walked slowly toward the closed door.

Wyatt hoped he could talk some sense into the boy, desperately searching for the words that would convince him to let Josie go.

Jackson took his position on one side of the door, while Wyatt stood almost directly in front of the door.

They waited, heads cocked, listening.

* * *

Inside the dimly lit storeroom, Dean stood in the center of the room, his arm still tight around Josie’s neck.

“Just let me go...please.” Josie’s voice was a hoarse whisper as she struggled to speak.

“Shut-up! Shut-up! Shut-up!” Dean fought the feeling of rancid beer threatening to erupt from his throat. He felt sick to his stomach and the terror of the moment was too much.
What was happening…none of this should be happening…

“You just shut-up! I can’t think!” He tightened his hold on Josie’s neck even more. From the other side of the door, Dean heard a soft knock, then Wyatt’s voice.

“Just let her go, son. You’re in over your head. There’s not much you can do, now, is there? Be smart and open the door. Let her come out...then we’ll have us a talk.”

Josie whimpered softly as her fingers clutched at Dean’s arm at her throat.

“Shut-
up
!” Dean’s adrenaline shot out of control as he squeezed his arm against Josie’s neck. Moments passed before he realized that he was supporting her dead weight in his arms.

In a sickening moment of panic, he let Josie’s lifeless body slide to the floor.

A low moan escaped from his clenched lips as he realized that Josie was no longer breathing. Sweat poured down his face as he whirled around, looking for anything he might use as a weapon. He felt completely defenseless as he searched the room.

Seconds later, his gaze stopped at the window at the far end of the room. He sensed movement. Sliding himself along the wall, Dean made his way closer to investigate.

Outside, three horses stood calmly waiting.
The getaway horses.

Without hesitation, Dean dove through the glass of the window just as Wyatt and Jackson burst into the room, guns drawn.

Forever Rose: Chapter Twenty-Nine

At the sound of the breaking glass, Taylor ran full tilt down the hall to the room, ignoring Wyatt’s instructions to stay put. She followed the men into the room, calling Josie’s name.

Jackson ran to the window, just as Dean jumped onto one of the horses and rode furiously down the street. There had been no time to get reinforcements, so Dean made a clean getaway.

Wyatt dropped to his knees next to the lifeless body of his wife. “Oh, my God...
no
!” The pain in his voice was heart wrenching.

Taylor rushed to Josie’s body, quickly assessing her condition as critical. “Jackson, turn up the lamp! I need more light here.”

Jackson quickly obliged, bringing the oil lamp to Taylor. With Wyatt and Jackson looking on in astonishment, Taylor checked Josie’s airway, tilted her head back, and placed her ear over Josie’s mouth. Quickly she pinched Josie’s nose shut and blew into her mouth twice. Next, she felt for a pulse. Nothing.

“Josie’s not breathing, I need to start CPR—”

“What are you talking about?” Wyatt interrupted.

“Please, you’ve got to trust me,” Taylor explained in a low, composed voice. “I might be able to...bring Josie back—start her breathing again.”

Wyatt and Jackson exchanged confused looks.

“Let her try,” Jackson said. “She’s a trained healer... she knows things.”

Wyatt nodded. Then he moved out of Taylor’s way as he watched her place the heel of her hand on his wife’s chest, place the other hand on top and interlace her fingers.

With her arms straight, and her shoulders directly over her hands, Taylor began pushing on Josie’s chest.

A cracking sound disturbed the tense silence and Wyatt lunged at Taylor.

“You’re hurting her!”

Jackson grabbed Wyatt as Taylor continued her compressions.

“I have to push this hard. Her ribs might be cracked but it’s the only way,” she explained.

After four cycles of compressions and rescue breaths, Taylor checked Josie’s pulse.

Nothing
.

Her own heart was beating hard against her chest and she had begun to perspire. Only once in her nursing career had she administered CPR, but she had been relieved within moments by paramedics.

This time there was no one else to assist her.

“Come on, Josie...
breathe,
” Taylor pleaded as she completed another cycle of compressions and checked her neck for a pulse.

“Sadie,” Wyatt whispered, “come back to me.”

At the same instant, in her mind Taylor heard the soothing sound of her mother’s voice.

“She’s coming back. It’s not her time.”

All at once, there was a pulse under Taylor’s fingers.

Josie’s eyes blinked open and her chest rose triumphantly with her first breath.

“Josie! It’s a miracle!” Wyatt called out.

Wide-eyed, Josie reached out to Wyatt and he gingerly embraced her. Even his gentle touch caused her to gasp in pain, tears flowing down her cheeks.

With a hoarse voice, she asked, “What happened? My chest hurts. What happened to me?”

“Your bones here are probably cracked,” Taylor confirmed as she pointed to where she had been compressing her chest. “They should heal fine. You can bind them if you like...then just rest.” Taylor helped Wyatt scoop Josie up into his arms, wincing in empathy at Josie’s pain.

Wyatt’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and gratitude. “I am forever indebted to you, Rose. How can I ever repay you for bringing my Sadie back to me?”

Taylor beamed, her own eyes filling with happy tears. “You belong together...and you deserve the miracle. Go home and make her rest. She’ll be sore for several days, but other than that, she should be just fine.”

Wyatt looked at Jackson, unable to speak.

“I’ll look after things here,” Jackson offered. “Take Josie home—do as Rose says. She knows what’s best.”

Wyatt nodded. “Close the place down for tonight and tomorrow. Then come talk to me...I’m thinking you’d make a pretty good partner, Jackson. And besides, I’m ready to find a smaller town to live in anyway. Someplace where it’s harder for these fools to find me.” Wyatt smiled at Josie, limp in his arms.