The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances (11 page)

“Sorry. Better now?”  he asked, shifting the weapon even further back.

“Much.”

He reached around her, grasped Troy’s reins with both hands and nudged him into a trot. They arrived home way too soon. She was having fun, but she didn’t think that Brock enjoyed it as much. He kept trying to shift away from her for some reason. He headed for the outhouse as soon as they got back and she was left to dismount by herself with her package. She slid down as carefully as she could and placed her sack on a bale of hay as she took care of Troy. Brock had still not come back by the time she finished so she grabbed the bag and headed for the house.

Brock was inside and he had his shirt off and looked grim. “What happened to your shirt?”  She asked setting her bag on the table.

“It got soiled.”

“Oh, well I can wash it out for you tomorrow if you want me too.”

“No!” Brock said abruptly and she jumped. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Okay, I just thought I could help out is all. You do so much for me; I just want to do my part.” She was trying to look at his face instead of his bare chest but it was hard. Really, really hard not to stare at him. “Um, are you ready for your surprise?” she asked with excitement in her voice.

Brock hesitated. “Sure.”

“I made supper! Well, with Mac’s help,” she added, at his look of surprise.

She took the bag and took a slightly lopsided apple pie off the top, then two steaks and some pan-fried potatoes that she’d sliced up and cooked in an iron skillet.

Brock laughed. “Perfect. Thank you.”

Sabrina blushed. “The pie was mostly straight when I made it.” She shrugged.

“I have a surprise too,” Brock said.

“Really? What?” 

“I’m going to see about getting you a horse. That way you don’t have to ride with me.”

She frowned. “I don’t mind riding with you. I can’t afford a horse right now. At this rate, I’m going to be paying you back for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t have to pay me back. I’ll buy me another horse and you can borrow it.”

Sabrina had dished out the food onto plates and they began eating in silence. She was upset.  “I told you I don’t take charity. I’ll get a job at the saloon if I need to. Or I’ll just walk to town---it ain’t that far.” She took a big bite of steak so she would not be able to talk while she chewed.

“You don’t need to get a job at the saloon. There are lots of unsavory people there.”

“Didn’t seem like you minded talking to Pamela,” she retorted without thinking. When she realized what she had said, she wanted to drop into a hole.

Brock looked up in shock. Will didn’t like him talking to Pamela? If he didn’t know any better he’d guess it was jealousy, but that didn’t make any sense. Then it dawned on him. Maybe the boy had a crush on Pamela. How cute. They finished the rest of the meal in silence. Brock thanked her for the food and even cleaned up all the dishes.

Sabrina reluctantly bade him goodnight and climbed up the ladder to sleep. She lay down on her cot wide-awake. She almost blew it tonight. Why did she have to say anything about him talking to Pamela? She was sure he talked to women and men all day long. The thought that Pamela slept with men for money irritated her…a lot. She didn’t want Brock sleeping with her. Maybe she should let him buy her a horse, and then he wouldn’t have any money left to buy a lady of the night. Grinning at her plan, she crawled to the edge of the loft and looked down. Brock was getting ready for the night. He had just undone his pants and let them slide down his firm thighs to the ground. The lantern was still lit, the soft light made the scene even more enthralling as shadows danced on the wall. There he was in all his glory. Sabrina held her breath. As if he could hear her heart pounding, he glanced up and met her eyes.

They both reacted at once. Sabrina scampered back from the edge and Brock grabbed his long johns and hastily put them on. Hearing his footsteps on the ladder, she feigned sleep.

“I know you’re not sleeping. Why are you spying on me?” Brock asked in a harsh voice.

Sabrina sat up angrily. “I was
not
spying! I was going to tell you that I decided that you could get me a horse. I saw you were dressing and decided to wait until you were dressed before saying anything. I normally don’t hold conversations with naked men.” Then in an innocent voice: “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Brock sighed. “I’m sorry, I guess I overreacted. We can look around at some horses tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

“Brock?” she called, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Brock froze thinking back to this morning and his quick getaway to the outhouse. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Good night, Will.”

Sabrina closed her eyes tightly, feeling more alone than she had in a long time.

Chapte
r
10

S
abrina sat up the next morning to light flooding into the room.  Bang!  She hit her head hard on the slanted ceiling above her and was knocked back down.  Her curses filled the room as her hand searched her head for signs of blood. Finding none, she backed her way down the ladder and tottered outside.

She found Brock in the barn saddling Troy.  She groaned; she never slept this late, but
sleep was scarce last night. Every time she closed her eyes she envisioned Ted Roberts climbing up the ladder and watching her. It was kinda awkward seeing Brock after she’d seen him naked but he wasn’t acting any different. She knew she looked like a wreck but didn’t care. She’d kill for the chance to lie down for two more hours but knew that would not help her rest. Her mind was too busy with thoughts---none of them happy ones.

Brock handed her a biscuit before pulling her up behind him for their ride to town. He noticed how disheveled Will was this morning and felt a bit guilty. He’d heard the boy tossing and turning most of the night. He hoped he could get a good deal on a horse so that they would not have to ride double anymore. He just could not understand his reaction to such a normal thing.

Mr. Swanson was at the burned out barn when they came into town. Sabrina stopped Brock, telling him she wanted to see Mr. Swanson and would meet him later. He nodded and she slid down. The old man’s horse, Copper, was nearby and she went over to greet both of them. She liked the new saddle and told Swanson so. All of the saddles were burned beyond repair but she tried to push it out of her mind.

A thunder of hooves behind her broke her out of her thoughts, and she cursed herself for not paying better attention. A man slid off his foaming horse and fell into a heap on the ground at their feet.  His shirt was soaked with blood and clinging to his side. He
was gasping for breath. “Train robbed about two miles back. Eight of ‘em, I think.”

Mr. Swanson moved to help the man, shouting at Will to get the doctor and the
sheriff.  Sabrina took off at a dead run. Brock tended to change his morning routine frequently so no one could second guess his rounds. She figured she would go for the doctor first and then look for Brock.  If she passed him on the way to the doctor’s office, that would be even better.

Luck was not with Sabrina. The doctor was not in his office but she did find him in the saloon talking to Mac. She yelled out to him and he hurried off as she went to look for Brock. Not many people were in town at this time of the morning and Sabrina headed down the street to the mercantile.  Glimpsing Brock through the window speaking to the store clerk, she burst into the shop and gasped out breathlessly. “Train was robbed two miles east of here. A man rode in wounded---said he saw eight outlaws.”

“Stay with Jack,” he ordered as he hurried out.

Brock was in complete control as he ran, first to his office for his shotgun, and then for his horse. Weary Sabrina headed back to the stables as well. Her still-healing lungs burned from the exertion. She passed the doctor’s office where all the people in town at the moment had gathered. They were drawn by the screams of agony from the man as the Doc tried to remove the bullet. Thinking Brock might need help going after the outlaws, she sent them to the corral to meet up with him as she stopped to catch her breath.

Coming full circle at last she saw Brock was surrounded by the townsfolk who had gathered.  He stood out easily, standing taller than the rest as he spoke in a clear confident voice.  She pushed her way to the front of the crowd where Brock was asking for volunteers. Three men volunteered to go with him.

“I’ll go!”  Sabrina spoke up, her back stiffening at the laughter around her. Brock swung his head around to look at her with a condescending smirk on his face. He took a step forward and patted her shoulder.  “Maybe in a couple of years.”

Sabrina stretched herself up to her full height and barely reached his shoulder. “I’m pretty good at counting and four against eight ain’t good odds. I’m a good shot. You need me.”

“Stay here,
” Brock said sternly, turning away.  Sabrina nearly ripped her hair out in frustration.  Men were so damn pigheaded! Fine, she would stay, until they left. As she nodded and headed back toward the saloon, her mind was already forming a plan. 

What she was looking for was Mac’s rifle. She knew right where he kept it under the bar. Mac had taken some whiskey down to the doctor’s office so the saloon was empty for now. Watching the men race out of town at a gallop, she headed over to Mr. Swanson, asking to borrow his horse. Seeing her determination, he agreed patting her on the back.

‘Stay here,’ she muttered to herself, mocking Brock. Part of her family’s land was sharecropped by Choctaw Indians. She’d spent endless hours when she was younger running through the woods and playing hide and seek with their children. They eventually decided to move further west to regain some of their freedom and heritage, but she had learned great tracking and hunting skills from them.

She waited a bit longer before taking off after the posse. It was quite easy following them; they were not even trying to cover their tracks.  She snorted…hopefully the crooks were too stupid to have lookouts posted. Taking her time, she made sure her tracks blended in with the others.

Following the railroad tracks, she eventually came upon the train.  The thieves had felled a tree and dragged it over the tracks.  It had knocked the engine off the rails and forced the train to a halt. Workers were milling here and there trying to figure out how to clean up the devastation. Not seeing Brock, she continued to follow the same trail she was on. When the trail turned into the woods, she used even more caution. She didn’t want to risk injuring her horse on an exposed root or broken branch. She was somewhat familiar with the area.  On her days off she’d often ride out this way with Star; the woods were dense and there were plenty of rocky places to hide out.

Brock frowned as the men behind him crashed through the forest.  Could they make any more noise he wondered?  He stopped his horse and hopped down, studying the ground.  It appeared that they had split off from each other. He figured they would have to meet up soon to divide the money they stole from the train.  Knowing there were some caverns nearby, he decided to check it out.  Motioning for his men to stay where they were, he nudged Troy and, together, they traveled silently.  Soon he came upon fresh tracks. Not expecting anyone to be coming after them so soon, they had become sloppy. He ground tied his horse and crept forward.  He could see the large cave cut out of the rock and, since the wind was blowing toward him, he could hear their horses and spatters of words. He could not hear what they were saying but, by their tone, it seemed as if they were arguing.  He crept forward, slowly trying to get a head count.

A gunshot ricocheted through the forest.  It came in the direction of his small posse.  Brock cursed; he hoped it was one of his men that had fired the shot. The four men who were arguing headed into the woods and Brock followed.

Hearing the shot fired nearby, Copper reared in panic, dropping Sabrina off his back.  She jumped up and took hold of the reins, quickly grabbing the rifle from the saddle. She had already placed the handgun Mr. Swanson had left, in his saddlebag, in her waistband earlier and she had a knife she always carried hidden in her boot.  The horse took off the way they’d come and Sabrina hoped she’d make it back to town safely. Ducking down, she moved deeper into the forest. 

Staying low and hiding under a bush, she was close enough to see the three townsmen on their knees in front of two of the outlaws. Sabrina cursed quietly; she didn’t see Brock and was praying it was not he who had been shot. She was deciding which one she should take out first when four more showed up.

Not good. Readying her rifle, she silently took aim.  She noticed a small movement in the woods behind the newcomers and smiled: Brock. Since he was not aware that she was there, she figured he would take out the head person so she set her aim on the next in line.

An outlaw with a black beard stood out above the rest; he seemed to be in charge. Cursing at his companions’ weakness, he raised his gun.  Cocking back the hammer he aimed it at Ed Johnson, the town’s black smith.

As if one, Brock and Sabrina fired simultaneously, and two of the outlaws fell, shot through the chest. The three captives immediately flung themselves upon the two closest thieves.  Brock stepped out into the small clearing and held his gun at the other two who immediately put up their hands.

Not wanting to reveal herself amongst the fray and risk being shot by one of her friends, Sabrina stayed where she was, readying another shot just in case. Only after the four men were
subdued and the other two declared dead did Brock look her way.

“You can come out now,” he said.

Hesitating, Sabrina crawled out of the bushes and came into the clearing still looking around nervously. According to the man in town, there were still two others not accounted for. 

Glimpsing Will, Brock cursed. “I told you to stay back at town.”

“I don’t take orders,” Sabrina spat back angrily. He could have at least said thank you. “Where are the other two?” Sabrina asked as she felt the cold steel of a rifle touch the back of her neck. She froze.  Brock’s eyes turned deadly as the two remaining outlaws loomed up behind her, using her as a shield.

One of them chuckled. “At least one of you can count. Now drop your weapons or the boy dies.”  The other outlaw pulled Sabrina to his chest and held a knife to her throat. 

Sabrina was pissed. How in the heck had she not noticed them?  She took in their darker skin and realized they were Indians.  Renegades.  Perfect.

Forcing herself to focus, she realized she had to act fast before Brock dropped his gun and they untied the others.  Moving quickly, Sabrina thrust her head back hard into her captive’s Adam’s apple shattering his hyoid bone and sending fragments of it tearing into his windpipe. Her hand came up to grab his knife hand as she blocked the blade with her other hand. He fell to the ground groping at his neck. The swelling inside his throat minimized his airway and he gasped for breath.

The other man glanced over at him in shock. That second was all it took for Brock to get one shot out. It penetrated the man’s right shoulder and he dropped his gun.

All her adrenaline gone, Sabrina sank to the ground exhausted. Brock hurried to her side, shouting orders to the others to collect their weapons and tie up the other two who were now injured.  He lifted her chin, examining her neck for any damage.  She had a small nick under her chin but that was it.  Her hand was worse; she had grabbed his wrist with one hand and, with the other, she had grabbed the blade, figuring her hand was more expendable than her throat.

Brock lifted her hand gingerly; there was a deep horizontal cut across her palm.

“Take off your shirt so I can wrap up your hand,
” he ordered and Sabrina’s eye widened.

“No, I told you I don’t take orders! Take off your own shirt.” Sabrina retorted, trying to move away from him. Brock glared at her, angry that the boy was again defying his orders. Before Sabrina could blink, he ripped her shirt open so he could tear off a section of fabric. Sabrina couldn’t help it.  She screamed.  It came out as a very girly shriek.