Clayborne Brides Series - book 2 - One Pink Rose by Julie Garwood

[Dalyia]

Chapter Five
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Neither one of them said another word until they reached Billings's way station. Henry came outside the rectangular log cabin to meet them. He was a middle-aged man* as bald as a rock* and just about as talkative. He greeted Emily—at least she thought he did—but he mumbled so* she couldn't make out a word he said. He wouldn't look at her either. He motioned her to follow him inside and showed her where she would sleep by pointing toward a closed door.
The main room had bunk beds lined against every wall. A long wooden table with benches on either side was in the center near a potbellied stove.
Travis acted as though he and Henry were good friends. During supper* he filled him in on all the latest news. Emily didn't say a word. She sat close to Travis's side at the table and tried to eat the foul-smelling soup she'd been offered. She couldn't get any of it down though* and since the proprietor wasn't paying any attention to her* she ate the brown bread and goat's milk instead and left the soup alone.
She excused herself as soon as she finished* but when she reached the door to her bedroom* she turned back to Travis.
"Will we reach Golden Crest tomorrow?"
He shook his head. "No* the day after*" he said. "We'll stay with John and Millie Perkins tomorrow night. They rent out rooms in their home."
She told both men good night then and went to bed. Travis didn't see her again until she came outside the following morning with her satchel in her hands. She was wearing a pink dress with a matching sweater. The color suited her* and damn* but she was getting prettier and prettier.
He wanted to kiss her. He frowned instead and made a silent vow not to get near her today. He would keep the talk impersonal* no matter how much she provoked him.
The day's journey turned out to be extremely pleasant. Emily obviously didn't want to argue either* so the topics they ended up discussing were of a philosophical nature.
She confessed to being a voracious reader. He suggested she read The Republic. "It's all about justice*" he explained. "I think you'll like it. I did. Mama Rose gave me a leather-bound copy along with a journal* and they're my most prized possessions."
"Why did she give you a journal?"
"She told me it was for me to fill with my accounts of all the cases I defend. She said that when I'm ready to retire* she wants me to be able to hold The Republic in one hand and the journal of my experiences in the other. It's her hope that the two will balance."
"Like the scales of justice*" Emily whispered* impressed by the wisdom of Travis's mother.
She began to question him about Plato's work* and they debated justice and the law well into the afternoon. He thoroughly enjoyed sparring with her* so much so* he was sorry when the discussion ended.
It was his fault. He made the mistake of getting personal again.
"You're a contradiction* Emily. You've obviously been well educated* and I know you're smart…"
"But?" she asked.
"You're doing something that isn't smart at all. In fact* it's just plain stupid."
His bluntness got her all riled up. "I don't believe I asked for your opinion."
"You're getting it anyway*" he replied. "You just gave me a passionate argument about honesty and justice* and surely you can see that the pretense you're thinking about pulling on your unsuspecting groom is downright dishonest."
It was the beginning of an argument that lasted until they reached the yard behind the Perkinses' house.
Travis did most of the talking. He gave her at least twenty reasons why she shouldn't marry O'Toole* but he believed his last reason was the most convincing one.
"You won't ever be able to keep up the charade of being a delicate little flower in need of pampering* Emily."
"I am delicate* damn it."
He snorted with disbelief. "You're about as fragile as a grizzly bear."
"If flinging insults is the only way you can argue your position* heaven help your clients."
Travis dismounted* then went to Emily's side and lifted her off her horse. His hands stayed around her waist much longer than necessary. "A good marriage takes effort* and honesty is a definite prerequisite."
"How would you know? You've never been married* have you?"
"That isn't relevant."
"Is flirting honest?"
He was caught off guard by her question and had to think about it for a minute before he answered. "Sometimes it's honest. Flirting is part of the courting ritual* but I personally think it's only honest when a woman flirts with the man she's set her cap on."
"'Set her cap on'? Are you telling me you think she should only flirt with the man she's already decided to marry?"
"That's what I'm saying all right."
"That's ridiculous. Flirting is the first step in a long process of finding the right man or woman. Men flirt too* you know. They just don't do it the same way women do."
"No* we don't."
Arguing with him was proving exasperating. "It's all a game* isn't it* that's played out between men and women. It's harmless too. Besides* men like women who flirt with them*" she added* remembering how
Barbara had always been able to get every available man at a party to flit around her as though she were their queen bee.
"No* we don't like women who flirt with us*" he insisted. "We're much more intelligent than you think we are* and we sure as certain don't like being manipulated."
"You needn't use that superior tone with me. I've patiently listened to you argue your position for the past hour* and I never once scoffed at you. Granted* I wanted to* but I didn't. Now it's my turn. It's too bad I can't prove my point to you."
"What point?"
She knew he was deliberately trying to frustrate her and refused to cooperate. She stared at the buttons on his shirt so she couldn't be distracted by his smile* and said* "If the circumstances were favorable* I'd prove to you right this minute that a delicate little flower gets far more attention than a practical one."
"You really believe a helpless little woman who flutters her eyelashes and hangs on a man's every word will get his full attention?"
"I do."
"You're as nuts as a tree full of acorns."
She ignored his criticism. "I've done a complete study on this subject* Travis."
"What makes the circumstances favorable?" he asked* latching onto an earlier remark she'd made.
"Boston*" she answered. She waved her hand toward the Perkinses' house as she continued. "I'm not about to draw any attention to myself in front of a crowd of strangers here because it would be foolhardy and perhaps even dangerous to do so. The men in Boston are more refined and know how to conduct themselves as gentlemen around ladies. There are rules* after all* and they abide by them. I can't say the same for the men who live out here because I don't know any of them."
"Most of the men out here are gentlemen* but there are a few who would think nothing of trying to drag you off with them. The way I see it though* being your escort means I'm responsible for your welfare* and I don't like the notion of getting into a fight just because you acted silly.
"Furthermore* we're about to eat* and I don't want to have to shoot anyone afterwards. It's bad for the digestion."
It was such an outrageous thing to say* she struggled to force herself not to laugh.
"Indigestion is the only reservation you have about shooting someone?"
"Just about*" he told her.
"I don't believe you. You're teasing me* and a gentleman would never do such a thing."
"Now* Emily* we've been though this before. I know I mentioned I wasn't a gentleman. Fact is* you should be thankful I'm your escort."
She was so surprised by his matter-of-fact remark she didn't bother to push him away when he put his arms around her waist.
"Is that so? Why exactly should I be thankful?"
"Because if I weren't escorting you* I'd probably be one of the few who would drag you off with me."
She thought that was a lovely thing to say to her. He wasn't really serious. She shook her head at him to let him know she wasn't so gullible* then began to laugh. She stopped when she noticed he wasn't even smiling.
"We both know you aren't serious. Stop tormenting me. You wouldn't really…"
"You wouldn't have to flirt with me either."
"I wouldn't want to*" she admitted. "Why are you holding on to me?"
"It makes it easier."
"Makes what easier?"
He slowly bent his head toward hers. "Kissing you."
He caught her whispered "Oh*" as his mouth covered hers. His tongue swept inside to leisurely explore the sweet taste of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. The last thought that fluttered through her mind was that she was going to insist that he let go of her just as soon as she finished kissing him back.
All that mattered now was Travis. She could feel his hard muscles under her fingertips and was a little overwhelmed by the sheer strength of him* yet he was being so incredibly gentle. She loved his masculine scent too. It did crazy things to her heart. She could feel it beating frantically now.
Lord* but he did know how to kiss.
He didn't understand why he suddenly felt the need to kiss her* but once the thought came into his mind* he couldn't get rid of it. He wasn't going to let passion get the upper hand* however* and as soon as the urge to become more aggressive entered his mind* he pulled away from her. Damn* she was seductive.
Emily had a bemused expression on her face* but quickly came to her senses.
"You really can't kiss me whenever the mood strikes you."
To prove her wrong* he kissed her again. She let out a little sigh of pleasure when he lifted his head again.
"That was the last kiss you'll get from me*" she announced* groaning inside over the shiver in her voice. "I mean it. You mustn't ever kiss me again." She added a frown to let him know she meant what she said.
"You were a willing participant*" he said. "Or wasn't that your tongue inside my mouth?"
She turned scarlet within a heartbeat. "I was being polite."
He burst out laughing. "You are a piece of work* Miss Emily Finnegan. If I were the marrying kind* I'd give good old Randolph a run for his money."
She knew something was wrong with the comment he'd just made* but it took her a full minute to figure out what it was.
"Clifford O'Toole*" she said then. "Randolph is the man who married my sister."
"Ah* that's right. The man who jilted you."
"Must you use that word?"
"No need to get in a huff about it*" he told her.
Even though they were a good distance away from the barn* Travis could hear the squeak of the door as it was being opened from the inside* and he instinctively moved closer to Emily so he could shove her behind his back if he needed to. He didn't think he was being overly cautious* for he had learned from past experience that a few of the folks who visited the Perkinses' establishment lived like animals up in the high country and were a crude and uncivilized group who didn't abide by any man's laws.
Travis relaxed his guard as soon as he saw the man strutting toward them. It was ornery Jack Hanrahan* whom everyone called One-Eyed Jack for obvious reasons. He was a fright to look at* with long straggly brown hair that hadn't been washed in years and a permanent scowl on his face that was mean enough to make a person think Jack was going to tear him apart. He was also downright vain about his godawful appearance and didn't bother to wear an eye patch. He thought a patch made him look sissified.
Every time Travis looked at Jack* he inwardly blanched. Other men weren't quite as restrained. They let Jack see their reaction* and that* according to old man Perkins* made Jack all the more vain. He got a kick out of terrorizing people.
Travis suddenly came up with one hell of a brilliant plan to make Emily come to her senses and realize how crazy her notions about men were.

[Dalyia]

"Maybe there is a way you can prove your point to me*" he told her.
"There is?"
She tried to turn so she could see what Travis was staring at* but he put his hands on her shoulders and wouldn't let her move.
"Do you really want to show me how effective acting helpless can be around a man?"
"I would if I could. I've done a complete study on this topic* and I assure you I know what I'm talking about."
"Yeah* yeah. You studied it. How about proving it with the very next man you see?"
"You don't think I can do it* do you? Well* I can* Travis."
"You're that sure of yourself?"
"Yes* but only because I've watched it over and over again. My sister Barbara could turn all the men in a ballroom into a pack of fleas hopping around her* just like that*" she said and snapped her fingers.
The comparison of Barbara to a dog made Travis laugh. "God help your husband if he ever does anything wrong. You sure do know how to hold a grudge."
"And just what does that mean?"
"Never mind." He gloated with satisfaction over what was going to be a well-deserved victory for all men everywhere. "Want to make it interesting and wager on the outcome?"
Although it wasn't proper for a well-bred lady to gamble* she was so certain she would win* she couldn't resist the temptation. Granted* she hadn't had much practice turning a man's head by acting helpless or coy* but she had observed the ladies traveling on the train who had blatantly flirted with several men* and she had also watched the master* Barbara* and therefore had complete confidence that she could pull it off.
"How much would you like to wager?"
"A dollar."
"Shall we make it more interesting and wager five dollars?"
"Five dollars* it is*" he agreed.
"I want you to know I wouldn't agree to this if I thought the gentleman I'm going to give my attention to would end up with hurt feelings* but what I'm about to do is harmless. Wouldn't you agree?"
The thought of Jack Hanrahan getting his feelings hurt made Travis choke on his laughter. "Yes* it's harmless. Have we got a bet* then?"
"As long as it isn't dangerous*" she hastily qualified.
"I won't let it be dangerous."
"What are the rules?"
"No rules*" he replied. "Just a time limit. Is ten minutes enough time to turn a man into a blithering simpleton* or do you need more time?"
"Ten minutes will be just fine. Are you sure you don't want to set some other rules? I don't want you to accuse me of not playing fair."
"No other rules*" he insisted. "Just flirt with the very next man you see*" he told her before he slowly turned her around.
He heard her indrawn breath and was a little surprised she didn't scream. She took a step back toward him.
"You want me to flirt with… him?"
"His name's Jack Hanrahan* and he was the next man you saw* wasn't he?"
"Yes* but…"
Her shoulders were now pressed against his chest. He leaned down close to her ear and drawled out* "Did I happen to mention Jack's an avowed woman hater?"
She closed her eyes. "No* you did not. Is he dangerous?"
"He won't hurt you* or any other female* for that matter* but he sure won't be nice to you either. Folks say he has the personality of a rattlesnake* but I think that's a rotten thing to be saying about snakes. They're much sweeter. Do you want to admit defeat now* give me your five dollars* and be done with it?"
It was the combination of arrogance and laughter in his tone that swayed her. She straightened her shoulders and her resolve. Come hell or high water* she was going to get the man who looked like a barbarian to hang on her every word.
"He will be my finest challenge*" she announced. "Stay here* Travis* and observe."
"Wait a minute. How will I know you've won?" he asked with another chuckle he couldn't contain* for the possibility of Jack being swayed by a woman was downright hilarious.
"Trust me. You'll know when I've won." She adjusted the folds of her skirt* straightened the collar on her blouse* and then took a deep* God-help-me breath.
Travis kept right on grinning as he watched her drag her feet toward her prey. He knew she had to be worried. Jack did look like a hungry bear who had just come out of his cave. He usually smelled like one too* and Travis couldn't help but think Emily was actually courageous to try to win him over. She was also being foolish and stubborn* of course* because she refused to admit that men were too intelligent to be taken in by a helpless woman.
"Be sure to do that thing with your eyes* Emily*" he called out* pretending to be helpful.
She turned around. "What thing?"
"That twitching thing you did when we were in Pritchard. Jack will love that."
She wasn't amused. She whirled around and hurried toward the man she was determined to tame. By the time she reached him* her heart felt as though it was lodged in the back of her throat.
Whatever it was she was saying wasn't working. Jack kept right on scowling* God love him* and Travis could have sworn he heard him growl each time he shook his head at her.
Although ten full minutes hadn't passed* Travis decided to suggest to Emily that she give up. It really was hopeless* after all. He was just about to call out to her when One-Eyed Jack did the most vile* hideous thing. He smiled.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Six
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Travis blanched* blinked* and then looked again. The ugly smile was still there. He watched in disbelief as Jack thrust his arm out to Emily. She immediately hooked her arm through his and started walking by his side toward the house* smiling up at her escort.
Travis didn't think he could stomach much more. He did a double take when the mismatched pair reached him and he heard her chattering away in the most horrendous imitation of a southern drawl he'd ever heard.
"I declare* Jack* you're such a gentleman."
"I try to be* Miss Emily. I sure do like the way you sing your words."
"How sweet of you to say so*" she replied with a flutter of her eyelashes that made Travis lose his appetite.
"May I introduce you to my guide* Mr. Travis Clayborne* of Blue Belle?"
Jack quit grinning like a demented man long enough to flash his usual scowl at Travis. "I know you*" he accused. "Didn't I shoot you a time or two* Clayborne?"
"No* Jack* you didn't."
"I recollect I did."
The set of his jaw indicated he was getting riled up. She quickly turned Jack's attention. "My* but I'm all tuckered out. Mr. Clayborne and I have been riding for hours and hours* and I'm not at all strong like you are* Jack. I'm too delicate for such strenuous activity."
Jack became solicitous once again. "Of course you're delicate. Anybody can see you ain't got much meat on your bones. Clayborne oughtn't to have set such a hard pace. Want me to shoot him for you* Miss Emily?"
The question so appalled her* she answered in a near shout. "No."
"You sure? I wouldn't mind none."
"I'm sure* Jack* but I thank you for offering. I'll be fine as soon as I sit down. I just need to rest for a spell."
"I'll get you settled in a comfortable chair in just a minute* Miss Emily. You sure do smell nice*" he added in a rush.
"I declare* Jack* you'll spoil me with your compliments."
She didn't need to say another word or bat another eyelash. Travis listened as Jack promised to build her a fire so she could warm her feet* fetch her a drink so she could cool her parched throat* and bring her supper so she could regain her strength.
Travis wanted to shoot him. He felt justified too* because Jack had just disgraced every other man in the territory. Come to think of it* shooting was too good for him. Travis glowered as he followed the pair around the corner to the front stoop. The horses would have to be taken care of* but not until Travis knew who the other guests inside were and made certain Emily would be safe.
Jack opened the door for Emily and then* true to his nature* tried to kick it closed before Travis could come inside. It was a childish prank and one Jack so thoroughly enjoyed* he had to snicker about it.
John Perkins was standing in the hall waiting for them. He was a heavyset man with a triple chin* a potbelly* and a ready smile. He looked soft* but he was as tough as any other mountain man and didn't allow any nonsense inside his establishment. Any disputes that arose had to be settled outside* and from the number of unmarked graves on the hillside behind the house* it was apparent there had been a number of those fights in the past.
John usually greeted his guests. He couldn't seem to find his voice now* however* and appeared to be in a stupor as he stared in stunned disbelief at One-Eyed Jack.
John had apparently never seen Jack Hanrahan smile either.
"It's chilling* isn't it* John?" Travis remarked as he strolled past him on his way into the dining room.
John's wife* Millie* let out a little screech when she spotted Jack grinning. Travis thought that was an appropriate reaction.
The dining room was deserted. Still* Travis insisted that Emily sit in the corner next to him with her back against the wall. One-Eyed Jack straddled the chair across from them* but he kept nervously glancing behind his shoulder to make certain no one was trying to sneak up on him.
John came to his senses before his wife did. He hurried to the table* his shotgun cradled in his arms* and stopped when he reached Travis.
"It's good to see you again*" he remarked with another quick glance in Hanrahan's direction. "Millie* quit twisting your apron and come meet Travis's woman. Did you go and get yourself hitched?"
"No* Jack. I didn't get married."
He introduced Emily to the older couple and then suggested they both join them.
As soon as Millie had gotten over her reaction to seeing Jack smile* her attention moved to Emily. She seemed mesmerized by her* nervous too; Travis noticed the way she was fiddling with her hair and smoothing her apron.
When Millie was younger* she was quite attractive* and her good looks helped to soften her abrupt way with people. Age had made her features more angular and harsh* but the sparkle was still in her eyes.
"We might as well eat with our guests* Millie* seeing as Travis is a friend*" John said. "If you can stop gawking at his woman long enough to fetch our supper."
Millie didn't budge. She gave her husband a look
Travis interpreted to mean John was going to catch hell later for teasing her.
"My hair used to curl the way hers does*" Millie told her husband. "Might be it still would if it weren't so long."
"Expect you'll cut it* then?" John asked
Millie didn't answer her husband. She simply continued to give Emily her close scrutiny.
"Mr. Perkins* are you expecting trouble?" Emily asked* pretending not to notice that his wife was watching her every move.
"I always expect trouble*" he replied. "That way I'm never taken by surprise."
"John started carrying a shotgun when he married Millie because he knew men would try to steal her away from him*" Travis said.
"That was years ago*" Millie interjected. "I was pretty then."
"You're prettier now*" Travis told her. "John's still carrying his shotgun* isn't he?"
Millie blushed with pleasure and hurried out of the room.
"What are the two of you doing up in high country?" John asked with yet another worried glance at One-Eyed Jack.
"I'm escorting Emily to Golden Crest. She's meeting someone there."
Emily was relieved he hadn't given Mr. Perkins any other details.
Travis couldn't stomach looking at One-Eyed Jack's infernal grin another second.
"Emily* tell Jack to stop smiling. He's giving me the chills."
"I think his smile is charming*" she replied. She reached across the table and patted Jack's hand. "Don't pay any attention to him* Jack. He's just in a contrary mood."
"Want me to shoot him for you* Miss Emily?"
The question didn't faze her this time. "No* Jack* but thank you for offering."
Travis decided to ignore both Emily and Jack. He turned to John again and remarked* "You're light on guests tonight."
"We won't be light for long*" John replied. "Ben Corrigan stopped by on his way home from River's Bend to visit with Millie and me for a spell* and he told me five men from Murphy's outfit are headed this way. They'll expect to spend the night* but if they give me any back talk at all* I'm tossing them out. They're all low-down* thieving troublemakers." He turned and raised his voice so his wife could hear him in the kitchen. "Millie* you'd better hide the money you've got tucked inside the cookie jar." Turning back to his guests* he said* "Travis* I'd keep an eye on your woman if I were you."
Travis nodded agreement. He didn't bother to correct John's misconception that Emily was his woman and* in fact* had to admit he kind of liked the sound of it.
The realization made him frown. She was soon going to be O'Toole's woman* he reminded himself* and he would probably never see her again.
"Looks like I won't be getting much sleep tonight*" he said* accepting what he was going to have to do to keep Emily safe.
"Why is that?" Emily asked.

[Dalyia]

He doubted if she'd get any sleep either if he told her what Murphy's men were capable of* and so he decided not to answer her question and changed the subject instead.
"What other news did Corrigan have to tell you?"
"He mentioned there was a United States marshal poking around up here."
Jack Hanrahan's head snapped up* and he was suddenly mighty interested in the conversation. "What for?" he muttered. "The law ain't no good in these parts."
Jack was wrong* but neither John nor Travis felt inclined to tell him so.
"The marshal's searching for some men* and from the rumors Corrigan heard* they're about as bad as men can be. Word has it they've killed a woman and a child. The little girl was just three years old* and the bastards ought to hang for that. The marshal wants to haul them back to Texas to stand trial."
"The marshal's from Texas?"
"That's what Corrigan told me."
"Did he mention his name?"
"I don't recollect that he did. Why are you so interested in the marshal? I'd stay away from him if I were you. Corrigan said that when he was introducing himself to him* he was suddenly feeling real thankful he'd led such a law-abiding life. The marshal gave him the shivers* all right* with those cold blue eyes staring down at him. Corrigan told me he hopes he never runs into him again. That's what he said* all right."
"I'm looking for a man who goes by the name of Daniel Ryan. He stole something from my mother* and one way or another* I'm going to get it back. All Mama Rose remembers about him is that he's big* he has blue eyes* and he's from Texas."
"You aren't thinking the marshal's the man you're after* are you?"
John didn't give Travis time to answer him* but continued on. "It could be just a coincidence. Lots of men have blue eyes*" he reasoned. "Maybe the gang he's after comes from Texas too* and one of them could have blue eyes."
"Mama Rose told me Ryan was very refined. They were close to our territory when they parted company at the train station* but he had already mentioned to her that he was headed north."
"I don't suppose the men the lawman's searching for are refined. Still* you could be climbing up the wrong tree* thinking the marshal's the thief. There might be other Texans roaming through these hills. You know how they like to bring their cattle up to graze on our land."
Travis shook his head. "None of them would bring their herds this high up the mountain. Besides* the man I'm looking for was spotted in River's Bend a couple of days ago* and didn't you say Corrigan had just come from there?"
"I did*" John replied. "It sure looks like Corrigan met up with the man you're wanting* all right. If the Texan keeps to the northwestern trail* he'll have to come through this area* and you just might run into him too. If you don't mind my asking* what'd he steal from your mother?"
"A compass she was going to give to one of my brothers."
"A compass don't seem valuable*" Jack said. "Is it?"
"It is to my brother*" Travis told him.
"Maybe I'll steal it off the Texan and keep it for myself*" Jack boasted. "Which brother was supposed to get the compass?"
"Cole."
"Never mind* then*" Jack hastily decided. "I don't want him trailing me."
"You don't want any of the Claybornes trailing you*" John said* clearly exasperated. "Not if you want to live to be an old man."
He turned back to Travis again and shook his head. "It isn't unheard of for a lawman to turn bad* but it sure makes me sick to think about it. It just isn't right."
"John* it's real doubtful the marshal is the man I'm looking for. I can't imagine a lawman putting his reputation on the line for such a petty crime. The compass is valuable* yet it's insignificant compared to the gold shipments and banknotes the marshal has surely recovered in the past."
Emily had listened to the discussion and couldn't resist offering her opinion. "If the marshal has your mother's compass* I'm sure he'll bring it back to her."
Travis couldn't resist teasing her. "That's what Mama Rose believes* and it's going to break her heart when she finally realizes she's been duped. The Texan has had plenty of time to bring it back. He's keeping it* all right. Still* I'm not certain the marshal is Daniel Ryan."
"I sure wish I'd gotten his name from Corrigan*" John interjected.
Emily was becoming passionate about the matter. She shook her head at both men and said* "If the marshal accidentally took the compass* returning it is probably the last thing on his mind. Remember* he's searching for criminals."
"If he accidentally took it? What kind of an argument is that* Emily? No one accidentally steals anything."
"It could happen*" she argued. "You're making assumptions based on nothing but a few paltry coincidences. Surely you can see that I'm right."
He hid his smile. Emily was filled with righteous indignation as she defended the man she had never even met. She was correct about jumping to conclusions* of course* but he wasn't going to tell her so. The debate would end then* and he was having such a good time arguing with her* he wanted to continue on. He liked the way her eyes sparkled whenever he said something she took exception to* and she found it impossible to make a point without waving her hands around* a trait he thought was delightful* even though he had to dodge getting hit a couple of times. He also liked the way her voice turned so earnest and trembled with her demand that he be reasonable.
Come to think of it* he liked just about everything about her. She was going to be difficult to leave in Golden Crest* and handing her over to another man was going to be almost impossible. The smile left his eyes as he pictured her in the arms of Clifford O'Toole.
With a good deal of effort* he was able to block the dark thought and turned back to John. "Did you ask me a question?"
John nodded. "I was wondering if the Texan told your mother he was a lawman."
"No* he didn't tell her what his occupation was."
"That's odd* isn't it?"
He saw Emily roll her eyes heavenward and decided to goad her by agreeing with John. "Yes* it sure is odd. I can't help but wonder why he'd hide it from her."
"You cannot know if he deliberately kept his occupation a secret or not*" she cried out* her frustration apparent. "Neither one of you is being the least bit reasonable. I suggest that you stop believing the worst and have a little faith in the man."
"What for?" Travis asked. "He robbed my mother."
"It sure sounds like he did*" John agreed.
"We take care of our mothers out here*" Travis said.
"You're right about that*" John said* and even Jack had to grunt his agreement.
"No one dupes our mothers and gets away with it*" John said.
Emily gave up. There simply wasn't any way she could make them see how illogical they were being.
The men continued to discuss the situation for several more minutes* and then Travis asked John to keep Emily company while he saw to the horses.
"You don't need to worry about that chore. I hired a new hand* Clemmont Adam's boy* and I saw him through the window leading your horses into the barn. He'll take care of them and bring in your baggage too."
Emily wanted to wash before supper* and since Travis wasn't about to let her out of his sight* he went with her and made her wait while he washed up too. By the time the two of them returned to the dining room* Millie had already served the food and was sitting at the end of the table.
There was thick stew with biscuits and jam* coffee for those who wanted it* and cow's milk for those who didn't.
"I like to sit by myself when I eat*" Jack told Emily. He lowered his head and stared* hard at her when he added* "Then I got to get down to Cooper's place before dark."
She gave him a wide smile. "You've been very patient* Jack."
She turned to Travis and put her hand out to him with her palm up.
"I believe you owe me five dollars."
He was surprised she wanted to be paid her winnings in front of Hanrahan and Perkins. While he dug through his pocket for the money he owed her* he glared at Jack for disgracing him. From the curious look on John's face* Travis knew he was going to want to know why he owed her the money* and if Emily told him* Jack would know he'd been taken in by a woman.
There'd be real trouble then.
He put the money in her hand and was just about to tell John any questions he had would be answered later* when Emily turned his attention.
She handed the money to Jack. "Here you are* and thank you so much for your assistance."
"It wasn't too bad*" Jack muttered. "Can I stop smiling now?"
"Yes* you may."
He looked relieved for a second or two before his scowl was back in place. Then he shoved his chair back* stood up* and carried his plate and his cup to the table at the opposite end of the room. Like Travis* the mountain man preferred to sit with his back against the wall so he could watch people coming and going without fear of being caught unaware.
Jack hunched over his plate and began to eat his stew with his fingers* but Travis noticed his full attention was centered on Emily. He seemed so taken with her he missed his mouth twice. The man had the manners of a pig* and Travis knew he wouldn't be able to eat his supper if he continued to watch him. He turned back to Emily.
"Let me get this straight. You told Jack what our bet was?" he asked* trying to sound outraged.
"Yes* I did tell him."
"Then I can only conclude you didn't think you could pull it off without his cooperation."
"I most certainly could have* but I didn't want to*" she replied. "It wouldn't have been right to use Jack to win the bet. The men in Boston expect women to flirt with them* but Jack wouldn't have understood. No*" she insisted* "it wouldn't have been right."
"Aren't you changing your tune?"
"No."
"Is that right? What makes Jack any different from Clifford O'Toole?"
"Let's leave him out of this* shall we?"
"Who is Clifford O'Toole?" John wanted to know.
"The man Emily's supposed to marry. Stop kicking me*" he told her. "She hasn't met him yet."
"That doesn't seem right to me*" Millie interjected. "Why would you marry a man you don't know when you're wanting another?"
"I don't want any other man*" Emily said.
Millie snorted. "It's as clear to me as a clap of thunder that you're taken with Travis. Are you blind* girl?"
Emily could feel herself turning red with embarrassment. "You're mistaken* Millie. I barely know him. He's just my guide to Golden Crest."
Millie snorted again. Emily quickly tried to turn the topic back to the wager. She refused to look at Travis until she was certain he wasn't thinking about Millie's remarks.
"I won fair and square*" she announced.
"You broke the rules."
She forced a laugh. "There weren't any rules* remember? You made that choice* not me."
"What was the wager?" John asked.
Travis paused to glare at Emily for kicking him again before he answered. He explained their argument and how he wanted to prove she was wrong.
"It was a foolish wager*" Emily said. "But I did win* and it's all your own fault* Travis. You should have been more specific* like the moneylender in a story I read called The Merchant of Venice. Have you ever read it?"
"As a matter of fact* I have."
"I don't recall reading the story*" John said. "Of course* I don't know how to read yet* and that could be why I don't recollect it."
"I don't recollect it either* John*" Millie said. "But I'm wanting to hear about it."
"It's a wonderful story*" Emily began. "A gentleman borrowed money and made an agreement to pay it back within a certain amount of time. He also agreed that if he wasn't able to repay* then he would give the moneylender a pound of his flesh."
John's eyes widened. "That would kill a skinny man* wouldn't it?"
"It would kill any man*" Travis told him.
Out of the corner of his eye* he saw Jack get up and move to a table in the center of the room. It was apparent he was trying to get closer so he could hear every word Emily said* and he was also trying not to draw any attention to himself. It took all Travis had not to laugh* but* honest to God* seeing the savage up on his tiptoes really was comical. His brothers weren't going to believe him when he told them about it.

[Dalyia]

"Don't leave my John hanging for the rest of the story*" Millie said in her usual abrupt tone. "It seems mighty foolish for a man to make such a rash promise* doesn't it* John?"
"Yes* Millie* it does seem foolish. Now* if the moneylender gave him time to put some weight on around his middle* well then* I'm thinking that promise wasn't so rash after all. Did he give him time?" he asked.
Emily shook her head and tried not to laugh. "No* John* he didn't give him time."
"He never should have made that promise*" Millie insisted with a shake of her head. "He obviously wasn't from around these parts. Men out here would never do such a foolish thing."
"He was desperate*" Emily explained. "And he was certain he would have the money in time to repay. He didn't though."
"I had a feeling that's what happened. Did he get cut up?" John asked.
"He died* didn't he?" Millie asked at the very same time.
"No* he didn't get cut up* and he didn't die*" she answered.
"He welshed* didn't he? It just doesn't seem right to me*" John said. "A promise made is a promise that's got to be kept. A man's word is sacred* after all. Isn't that right* Millie?"
"Yes* John* a man's word is all he's got in these parts. How did he get out of his promise?" she asked Emily. "Did he go into hiding?"
"No*" Emily answered* smiling over the Perkinses' enthusiastic response to the story.
Travis was also smiling. Although he had read the Shakespearean play at Adam's insistence* he liked hearing Emily tell it much better. Her animated expressions made the characters seem real.
He happened to glance over at One-Eyed Jack then* saw what he interpreted to be a genuine smile on his face* and knew that Emily really had won the bet fair and square after all. The proof was hanging on her every word. Hanrahan was definitely smitten.
"If he didn't run away* what happened to him?" Millie asked.
"He refused to give a pound of flesh* and the moneylender refused to let him out of his promise or give him any more time* and so a trial was held to determine the outcome."
John slapped his hand down on the tabletop. "Leave it to the law to interfere."
"An attorney saved the man* of course*" Travis said.
"Who just happened to be a woman*" Emily reminded him. "Her name was Portia."
She and Millie shared a smile over that interesting fact before she continued.
"I'm wanting to know what in tarnation happened to the man who borrowed the money*" Millie said. "What did the judge have to say?"
"He decided the agreement was legal and binding and that the moneylender was entitled to his pound of flesh."
"I knew it* Millie. Didn't I tell you a promise made is a promise that's got to be kept?"
"Yes* you did* John."
"But*" Emily hastily added before she was interrupted again* "it was also ruled that while the moneylender could take his pound of flesh* he couldn't take a single drop of blood."
John rubbed his jaw while he mulled the judgment over in his mind. "Well now* I don't believe you can take any flesh without taking some blood."
"It's a fact you can't*" Emily explained. "If the moneylender had been more specific*" she said with a meaningful glance at Travis* "the outcome might have been different* but he wasn't specific* and neither were you with our wager* Travis. I won fair and square."
He admitted defeat* told her there were no hard feelings* and even suggested that she gloat if she felt like it.
"Want me to kiss you to prove I'm not mad?"
He realized he'd embarrassed her as soon as she lowered her gaze to the tabletop and shook her head at him. He reached over and put his hand on top of hers.
"You've got a lot in common with Portia*" he whispered. "But I don't think she blushed when she won her case. You have her passion though."
Emily was pleased by the compliment. She wasn't given time to thank him* however* for a loud thumping sound interrupted all of them.
Someone was trying to break through the front door. John jumped up and ran to the entrance. Travis was right behind him.
"Are the men from Murphy's ranch here* Millie?" Emily asked.
"From the way they're banging on my door* I'd have to say it's them all right." She hurried over to Emily's side and latched onto her elbow. "You can finish eating in the kitchen tonight. You'll feel much safer* and Travis will make sure the ranch hands stay in my dining room. I don't know how I'm going to get you up those stairs though* but I'll let John worry about that. Come on* girl. This isn't the time to dally. Lord* I sure hope they aren't all liquored up. There's nothing worse than a drunk*" she added with a shiver. "And if any of them steal my valuables* I swear I'll shoot them myself. Oh* I hope they aren't drunk."
Millie really was frightened. Emily wasn't about to take any chances. She picked up her plate of stew* followed Millie into the kitchen* and then offered to help her get the ranch hands' plates ready.
"You sit on down at the table and eat. I'll see to the chore after I put some more biscuit dough into my oven. After you've finished* you can scrub my frying pan if you have a mind to. It's been soaking in the basin long enough."
Emily was happy to have something to do. She quickly ate* then rolled up her sleeves and attacked the pan with a vengeance* smiling to herself as she tried to picture her mother's reaction if she were watching her daughter now. She would probably have heart palpitations* Emily supposed* for none of her daughters were ever allowed to do common housework—there were maids for that—but after she'd gotten over her initial shock* Emily didn't think she'd be disappointed in her.
"Millie* do you have anyone to help you with your chores?" she asked.
"No* but I'm getting used to the notion of hiring someone. My John's been nagging me to slow down* and lately our house has been packed with guests more often than not. After washing and cleaning and cooking and fetching all day long* by nightfall I'm so weary I can hardly get myself ready for bed."
"Have you ever thought about moving to a town?"
"No* I'd never want to do that. Folks have to come through here to get north or west unless the season's dry and they can cut through the gullies* and even though we have lots of company* we're still isolated enough to feel free. I don't think I could abide having neighbors living right on top of me* knowing my business. John wouldn't like it either."
Emily had lifted the heavy pan out of the soapy water and begun to dry it with the towel Millie handed her when she suddenly noticed the pounding had stopped. She also noticed Millie's hands were shaking.
"Do you think Murphy's men have left?"
"We aren't going to be that lucky. Their kind never gives up."
"Exactly what is'their kind'?"
"Ignorant drunks who steal anything that will bring a dollar for more liquor and break everything else. Can't reason with a drunk* Emily* but don't fret about it. Your man won't let any harm come to you."
"He won't let anyone hurt you either. He isn't my man though*" she said.
"You're wanting him to be* aren't you?"
Her bluntness made Emily smile. "Why would you think that? I'm on my way to marry another man*" she reminded her.
"Don't seem right to me*" Millie muttered. She shut the oven door and turned so Emily could see her frown. "You seem smart enough* girl. You'd best rid yourself of your pride and tell him what's inside your heart before it's too late."
"But* Millie…"
"Won't do you any good to argue with me. There were sparks flying between you two* and anyone with half a brain would know what's going on. Ask him to court you."
Emily shook her head. "Even if I did want Travis to court me* it wouldn't matter. He told me he isn't the marrying kind."
Millie scoffed at the notion. "No man's the marrying kind until the ceremony's over. Don't you go believing that nonsense* girl. I saw how close he sat next to you at the table. Why* he had you squeezed up nice and tight against his side. I saw him take hold of your hand too* but I didn't see you pull away. You didn't mind one little bit* did you?"
Emily's shoulders sagged when she said* "No* I didn't mind. I don't know what's come over me. Mr. O'Toole's letters were very nice* and when he suggested—"
"Hogwash*" Millie muttered. "Are you going to ruin your life because of some letters?"
"It wasn't supposed to get complicated*" Emily said. "I made up my mind to take charge of my destiny* and now I think that maybe Travis was right.
He told me it was ray pride being wounded that made me act so rashly. Millie* I don't know what to do. I like Travis* but I'm certainly not in love with him. Why* I've only known the man for a couple of days* and we've spent most of our time together arguing about this and that."
"Love can happen quick*" Millie told her. "I took one look at my man* and I knew I was going to nab him."
Emily didn't want to "nab" anyone. The conversation was making her agitated* for Millie was forcing her to think about things she would rather ignore. Emily wanted to convince herself that she was simply getting cold feet again* but she quickly recognized the lie. Dear God* what was happening to her? She didn't know her own mind anymore.
"You're very fortunate to have found John*" she said. "How did you meet him?" She added the question in hopes of turning Millie's attention away from her conflicting feelings about Travis.
Millie was just about to answer her question when the back door flew open and slammed against the kitchen counter* causing both women to jump in reaction. Two of the scruffiest looking creatures Emily had ever seen came sauntering inside. Millie let out a very unladylike blasphemy that so surprised Emily she turned to look at her.
The creatures quickly recaptured her full attention* however.
"No one's keeping us out*" one of the men said. He let out a loud belch before he added* "Ain't that right* Carter?"
The other creature was too busy staring at Emily to answer his friend. "Look at what we got here* standing in front of the cabinet John hides his liquor in* Smiley."
Emily was trying hard to blend into the wall. The men reeked of foul whiskey and were swaying on their feet as they gawked at her* and she knew it would only be a matter of minutes before they both passed out. She decided to humor them until then* or until Travis and John came into the kitchen and tossed them out.
She tucked the frying pan behind her while she stared back at them. She couldn't make up her mind which one was uglier. Smiley's teeth were so rotten they'd turned black in spots* which made his smile all the more repulsive. He drooled too.
Carter wasn't any prize either. His head appeared to be too big for his squat body* and there was a stench about him that was so horrid* Emily actually gagged.
Compared to these two* One-Eyed Jack was a ladies' man.
Millie's profanity hadn't made much of an impression on them. Neither one even bothered to glance her way.
"I'm wanting at that whiskey*" Smiley muttered.
"Me too*" Carter agreed. He licked his thick lips in anticipation* then made a smacking noise that Smiley found so comical he started chuckling* and if the raucous noise the two of them were making wasn't bad enough* watching the spittle from Smiley's mouth dribble down his chin was simply more than Emily could stomach.
Lord* they were vile.
Emily was simmering with anger. She wasn't going to let her temper get the upper hand though. Caution was prudent now* she decided. It would be foolhardy to provoke them* for even though she had never seen a drunken man up close* she had heard that they were all unpredictable* and Millie had just told her it wasn't possible to reason with a drunk.
She really wished she had a weapon close-by* then realized she was gripping one in her hand. The frying pan could do enough damage to send them running* and she wouldn't have the slightest qualm about using it if either one of them tried to steal so much as a speck of dust.
"Please leave. You're frightening Millie."
"We ain't going nowhere until we're good and ready*" Carter muttered. Smiley snorted agreement. "I'm wanting at that liquor*" he whispered to Carter loud enough for both women to hear. "If I got to toss the woman out of my way* I will. No one comes between me and my whiskey."
Carter vigorously nodded agreement. The movement must have made him dizzy* because he started swaying in a circle.
"I'm wanting the money tucked inside the cookie jar*" he told his cohort. His gaze searched the room before he added* "Millie went and hid it on us."
"Guess we got to tear the place apart to find it then."
Carter snickered. Millie straightened her shoulders but continued to give away her fear by twisting her apron. "You get on out of here* both of you* or I'll shout for John."
Carter pulled his bowie knife from his waistband and waved it at her. The stupid man was so drunk Emily was amazed he could hold on to the weapon.
"You keep your trap shut* or this here knife is going in your belly*" he hissed.
Millie's complexion turned as white as the dishcloth. Seeing her fear fueled Emily's anger. How dare they come into this dear woman's home and threaten her?
Emily took a deep breath. Oh* what she would have given to have John's shotgun now. She'd shoot both of them for upsetting poor Millie. She wouldn't kill them though; she'd just make it painful for them to walk for a long time.
"Let's get the pretty little heifer out of our way*" Smiley suggested to his friend.
Emily blinked. In the space of Millie's loud indrawn breath* she went from anger to fury.
"What did you just call me?" she asked* her voice a strained whisper.
Her eyelid began to twitch while she waited for him to repeat the insult.
"A pretty little heifer*" Smiley told her.
She drew herself up to her full height and glared at the men. Caution be damned.
"Millie? I can't seem to make up my mind. Which one do you think is uglier? The one with the black teeth or the one with the fat head?"
Millie let out another gasp. Her eyes looked as though they were about to pop out of her face. "Are you trying to get them mad* girl?"
Smiley took a step toward Emily. "She's Travis Clayborne's woman*" Millie cried out. "If you touch her* he'll kill you."
"We ain't got no quarrel with Clayborne*" Smiley muttered. "He won't know what happened until it's too late. He's busy with the others out front* and we'll be long gone with our whiskey and money before he comes inside. Ain't that right* Carter?"
"We can ride fast when we got to*" his friend boasted. "Go and push the little heifer clear into the dining room. I'll back you up."
Millie started to slowly edge her way to the table* hoping she could duck underneath to protect herself from Carter's knife while she screamed for her husband. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Emily wasn't trying to back away from the man stalking her.
"Run*" Millie cried out.
Emily shook her head. "Not until I help you take the garbage out."
The remark made Smiley stop. He swayed on his feet* staggered backward* then turned to Carter. "Is she talking about us?"
"What's come over you?" Millie whispered.
"Anger. I don't appreciate being called a cow; I don't like being threatened* and I hate the way they're scaring you*" Emily answered. She kept her gaze on the drunks. "Millie has asked you to leave. Please do as she says."
Smiley snorted. He put his arms out at his sides and tried to rush her. He was so drunk* he bounced against the counter twice and lost more distance than he'd gained.
"Get behind my back*" Millie shouted.
Emily was too busy at the moment to explain she wasn't about to do such a cowardly thing. Timing* after all* was everything. She nervously waited until Smiley was just about two feet away from her* then swung her arm in a wide arc and slammed the frying pan up against the side of his head.

[Dalyia]

Spittle went flying every which way as Smiley staggered backward* screeching like a wounded rooster* before he finally collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Carter was so taken aback by her attack he dropped his knife. "You knocked him stupid*" he bellowed.
"No*" Emily corrected in what she believed was a reasonable tone of voice. "He was already stupid. I knocked him out."
Her heart was frantically pounding* and her hand shook as she lifted the hem of her skirt* stepped over the prone man* and continued on toward his cohort. She had to get to him before he remembered he'd dropped the knife* or both Millie and she were going to be in real trouble.
Carter wasn't as drunk as she thought he was. Quick as a pistol shot* he squatted down* scooped up his knife* and snarled at her like a mad dog.
Emily took a hasty step back. Millie tried to help her by throwing everything she could get her hands on at Carter. He ducked the cup and saucer she hurled at him* but the copper kettle clipped him on his shoulder.
He let out a howl of pain* his gaze shifting back and forth between his two adversaries. Emily thought he was trying to decide which one to go after first. Millie drew his attention when she started screaming her husband's name over and over again. Emily seized the opportunity and slammed the frying pan into his elbow. She let out a yelp of dismay* for she'd tried to knock the knife out of his hand and had missed by an arm's length.
Carter shouted with rage* and from the look in his eyes* she knew his intentions had just turned deadly.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Seven
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He never touched her. One second she was staring at his ugly expression and the next she was looking at Travis's broad back. He seemed to have appeared out of thin air* and though she didn't have the faintest idea how he'd managed to get in front of her without making a sound* she was so happy to see him she patted his back.
The odds* after all* had just improved considerably. Emily moved to his side just in time to see his fist strike Carter below his chin. The force behind the blow was so powerful it sent him flying out the doorway through the screen. He landed on his back in the grass with his legs draped over Millie's butter churn.
Travis wanted to hit him again. He was so furious he was shaking. When Jack told him there were two men in the kitchen threatening Emily* Travis became enraged. He got scared too* and that enraged him all the more. His heart felt as if it was going to jump out of his chest as he raced toward the house. When he saw the son-of-a-bitch waving a knife in Emily's face* something snapped inside of him* and he suddenly wanted to tear her attacker apart limb by limb.
The idea still appealed to him. For a full minute he kept his attention on the man he'd knocked senseless* willing him to get up so he could hit him again* but the drunk didn't cooperate. He was out cold* and Travis finally accepted the fact that he wasn't going to be able to beat the hell out of him.
He turned around* put his hands on Emily's shoulders* and asked her to look up at him.
"Are you all right?" His voice was a rough whisper. "He didn't hurt you* did he?"
"No* he didn't hurt me*" she answered* surprised at how weak her voice sounded.
He noticed the iron pan in her hand then* took it away from her* and put it on the counter.
Emily suddenly needed to sit down. Now that the danger had passed* the reaction hit with a vengeance. Her knees went weak and she was suddenly shivering with cold. She turned away from Travis* pulled out one of the kitchen chairs* and plunked herself down on the seat.
John came running into the kitchen. He looked at his wife first* saw that she was all right* and turned to survey the damage. His gaze shifted back and forth between the remnants of the screen door and the man sleeping spread-eagle on his floor.
Emily watched him shake his head as he pulled his wife into his arms and hugged her. Emily wished Travis would put his arms around her* hold her tight* and comfort her in much the same way John was comforting his wife. Did the Perkinses know how fortunate they were to have found each other?
John placed a kiss on Millie's forehead before once again turning to the unconscious man littering his floor.
"What happened to him?"
Millie joined Emily at the table before she answered him. She sat down with a loud* weary sigh* and then said* "She's what happened to him." She pointed at Emily to emphasize the fact. "John* I don't know what came over her. One minute she was trying to squeeze herself into the wall* and the next minute she was banging my best frying pan up against his head. It was something he said that set her off."
Travis leaned against the counter* folded his arms across his chest* and stared down at Emily. He watched her lower her gaze to her lap and noticed a faint blush cover her cheeks.
He couldn't understand her timidity now. "Emily* are you embarrassed about something?"
She answered with a dainty shrug of her shoulders. He didn't have the faintest idea what that gesture was supposed to mean. She'd acted like a wild mountain cat moments before* ready and willing to do as much damage as she could with her frying pan* and though Travis had kept his attention on the drunk threatening her with a knife* he had noticed the determined glint in Emily's eyes when he'd moved to stand in front of her.
Now she was acting like a woman who could swoon at the drop of a hat.
John put his hand on Millie's shoulder and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "I'm going to put a strong bolt on that door before I go to bed. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."
"I'm not embarrassed. I'm ashamed. I deliberately provoked them."
Travis was the only one who heard Emily's whisper. "How did you provoke them?"
"I lost my temper. I shouldn't have though* because I put Millie in danger."
"How'd you do that?" John asked.
"She did no such thing* John*" Millie said.
"Yes* I did. I incited them*" Emily argued. "I deliberately made them angry by telling them how ugly I thought they were."
Travis squatted down beside her and took hold of her hands. "Look at me*" he ordered.
She lifted her gaze to his. "I should have tried to placate them* but they made me so angry. One of them called me a heifer."
A hint of a smile crossed his face. "A heifer?"
"That's what did it* all right*" Millie interjected. "She got that mean look in her eyes right after that one named Carter called her a 'pretty little heifer.'"
Emily straightened her shoulders. "No woman likes to be called a cow*" she announced in her haughtiest voice.
Travis and John both tried to hide their grins. Millie shook her head. "I think he was complimenting you in his own vile way. He didn't call you a cow* Emily. He called you a pretty heifer*" she reminded her.
"Correct me if I'm wrong* but aren't they the same thing? Travis* I don't believe I've said anything amusing. Why are you smiling?"
"Your indignation*" he replied.
John insisted on hearing every detail* and Millie was happy to oblige. Travis listened as he dragged Smiley out of the kitchen and shoved him into the grass next to his friend. His attention kept returning to Emily* and after he'd finished his chore* he leaned against the doorframe and blatantly stared at her.
She had been shivering a few minutes before* but under his close scrutiny* she was feeling uncomfortably warm in no time at all. She was also having difficulty drawing a deep breath.
John drew her attention when he pulled out a chair and sat down next to his wife. Emily watched him put his hand on top of Millie's* and it was that simple* little gesture of affection that proved to be her own undoing. She was suddenly so consumed with such hot* painful longings for Travis* she wanted to weep. She couldn't understand what was happening to her. She had never had lustful* carnal thoughts before* but she was certainly having them now* and how was that possible? Why was she yearning for something she had never experienced?
Emily made the mistake of looking at the man who was responsible for her misery. The sight of him only intensified her erotic thoughts* and she hurried to look away.
She wasn't quick enough though. Wanting him was bad enough. What made it worse was that she was certain he knew it. The dark look in his eyes told her so.
She jumped to her feet* nearly overturning her chair in her haste. She needed to get busy* she told herself* to take her mind off her outrageous daydreams. She decided to clean up the mess around her* but Millie paused in her story to insist that Emily sit back down.
She was simply too agitated to sit anywhere* and so she stood by the entrance to the dining room instead. She was deliberately trying to put as much distance between herself and Travis as possible. She didn't dare look at him again* so she pretended grave interest in Millie's every word.
And* Lord* it was hot in the kitchen.
"John* what took you and Travis so long to get in here?" Millie asked.
"We had our hands full; that's what took us so long*" he replied. "Corrigan told me five men were heading this way* but he was wrong about the number. There were eight of them out front trying to get inside* and all but two were stinking drunk. We didn't know a couple of others were sneaking up on the back door. I sure did itch to shoot them* Millie."
"What held you back?" she asked.
"Four of them decided to take Travis on* and all at the same time. They came at him from every direction* putting him right in the thick of it."
Emily's eyes widened* and she couldn't stop herself from looking at Travis. "You were in the thick of it? You don't have a mark on you."
"His fists have got to be tender*" John interjected.
"I had to keep my shotgun trained on the other hooligans so they wouldn't try any nonsense on me. It was a real fracas* I'm telling you* and One-Eyed Jack was the only one enjoying himself. He looked like he was having a mighty fine time. As pretty as you please* he sat himself down on my front stoop* until he remembered seeing two of the men going around back. We would have gotten here sooner if Jack hadn't been so preoccupied."
Emily enjoyed the way John painted a story. She could picture Jack slapping his knee in amusement while he watched the fight* and she almost burst into laughter then. The contrary mountain man was unlike any other man she'd ever met.
"I'm glad he finally remembered*" she said.
"Didn't you hear me shout for you* John?"
"Now* Millie* with all the commotion going on out front* how could I hear you?"
"If you hadn't come inside when you did* I don't know what would have happened*" Emily admitted.
"You were holding your own*" he told her.
"Millie* I'm so sorry I scared you."
"You didn't scare me. You sure did surprise me though. I forgot all about the frying pan until you whacked it upside his head."
"We'd better put her in the corner room* don't you suppose* Travis?" John asked. "No one can get to her through the window* and I imagine you'll hear anyone coming down the hall. I don't suppose those two sleeping it off in my backyard will sober up enough to come after Emily* but we shouldn't be taking any chances."
"Are you going to let Murphy's men sleep inside tonight?" Emily asked.
"Just the two who aren't drunk*" John explained. "I'll put them at the opposite end of the house* so you don't need to worry. Travis will be in the room next to you."
John's last remark wasn't at all comforting. Having Travis so close seemed as dangerous to her as having Smiley in the next room. Travis wouldn't hurt her* of course* and he wouldn't force himself on her either* but then he wouldn't have to* would he? The mere thought of being alone with him did crazy things to her heart* and she could hear the warning bells ringing loud and clear in the back of her head.

[Dalyia]

Travis moved away from the door. "I'll show her where her room is*" he remarked* completely ignoring Emily shaking her head at him.
He caught hold of her hand and continued on into the dining room. She tried to pull away from his grasp* but he tightened his hold to let her know he wasn't letting go.
Jack hovered near the front door* waiting for Emily. "I'm wanting to leave now*" he announced.
Emily smiled at him. "Thank you again for going along with my game* Jack."
"I'm wanting to shake your hand before I leave*" he muttered. "Unlatch her for a minute* Clayborne. I'm not going to steal her."
Travis let him have his way. He watched the two of them shake hands and couldn't help but notice the surprised look on Emily's face.
Jack leaned close to her* whispered something into her ear* and then pulled away. "I might be running into you again real soon*" he predicted. He shoved his hat on his head* turned around* and stomped out the front door.
Emily hurried to get around Travis before he tried to grab hold of her again. She bent down to pick up the hem of her skirt and then went upstairs.
Travis stayed right behind her. "What did he say to you?"
She reached the landing* turned around* and held out her hand.
Travis saw the five dollars and started laughing. "I knew Jack was taken with you* but I never thought he'd give you your money back."
"He's a dear man."
He looked exasperated. "No* he isn't. He's a cantankerous old goat. He smells like one too. He sure does like you though."
"I like him too*" she assured him.
Because he stood on the step below her* they were almost eye-to-eye. All she could think of was moving into his arms and kissing him. Emily realized then that she was staring at his mouth. Dear God* he was bound to know what she was thinking. It was all his fault* she decided. If he weren't such a handsome rogue* she surely wouldn't be having such impossible thoughts now.
"I'm tired tonight*" she blurted out.
"You should be tired. You had your hands full with those drunks in the kitchen."
"I was scared."
"There isn't anything wrong with being scared. You used your wits."
Where in thunder were her wits now* she frantically wondered. Travis was turning her into a nervous twit* and if she didn't get away from him soon* heaven only knew what she would do.
She quickly turned around. "You don't need to follow me to my room. I'll find it by myself."
If he noticed her voice trembled* he didn't say anything about it. He caught hold of her hand and led her down the dark hallway to the door at the end of the corridor.
His arm brushed against hers as he leaned past her to open the door. "Your bags are probably inside."
"Yes* they probably are*" she replied for lack of anything better to say.
Travis glanced inside and then nodded. "They're in the corner by the window."
"Your satchels*" he explained when she gave him a puzzled look.
She shook herself out of her stupor and hurried inside. Travis stayed in the doorway. He knew he should pull the door closed now and walk away. He couldn't make himself move though* and* God help him* he couldn't stop staring at her either.
She was standing entirely too close to the bed* and he was rapidly coming up with all sorts of possibilities.
His voice dropped to a whisper. "If you need anything* let me know."
"Thank you."
"Good night* Emily."
"Good night* Travis*" she whispered back.
And still he didn't move. She took a step closer to him. "It's hot in here* isn't it?"
"Are you hot?"
"Yes."
"Me too."
"Where are you sleeping?"
"Close-by*" he answered. "I'll hear you if you call out."
"I won't."
"But if you do…"
"You'll hear me."
"Yes."
"I'll try not to bother you."
His smile was devastatingly appealing. "I'm already bothered* Emily* and from the way you're looking at me* I'd say you're real bothered too."
She didn't try to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. She took another step toward him just as he moved toward her. And suddenly she was in his arms and she was kissing him with all the passion she had inside her.
One kiss wasn't enough. Frantic to get as close to him as possible* she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers gripped his hair while his mouth ravaged hers.
He couldn't get enough of her. He lifted her up so she was pressed tight against him* but the feeling he wanted was dulled by their clothing.
He groaned in frustration and began to take her clothes off* but his mouth never left hers. She was so hot and willing* and God* but she tasted wonderful to him. He unbuttoned her blouse* tore it free of her waistband* and then pushed the straps of her undergarment down over her shoulders. His hand moved beneath the fabric and began to stroke her breast.
The feel of her smooth skin against the calluses on his hands pushed his control further away. She made him so hot for her* he could barely think now. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any other woman before.
Travis kicked the door shut with his foot* forced himself to pull back from her* and then told her in no uncertain terms what he wanted to do to her.
He had to hold her up when he was finished. "Yes or no* Emily?" he demanded.
She didn't want to make the decision. He was forcing her to be accountable for her own actions* and she would much rather have been swept off her feet instead.
Admitting the truth helped her come to her senses. She pushed away from him and shook her head. "No* we can't. I want to* Travis* but it wouldn't be right."
She was panting now and still couldn't seem to draw a deep breath. She threaded her fingers through her hair in acute frustration.
His own frustration made him sound angry. "Because of O'Toole?"
"Who?"
He clinched his jaw tight. "The man you're going to marry."
She noticed her blouse was open and frantically rebuttoned it. "I used to have morals until I met you* Travis. I don't know what's happened to me."
"Lust happened. That's all there is to it* Emily."
"Don't be angry with me."
"I'm not angry with you. I never should have let it go this far." He pulled the door open* then turned back to her. "You wanted me* didn't you?"
"You know I did."
He saw the tears in her eyes and was heartless to them. "You know what I think? When you're in bed with O'Toole* you're going to be thinking about me."
The door slammed shut on his prophecy.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Eight
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She hated him because he was right. She was never going to be able to forget him* and if she married Clifford O'Toole* every time he touched her* she would be thinking about Travis.
Their marriage would be a mockery* of course. Mr. O'Toole was bound to be miserable and so was she* though probably no more miserable than she was now.
She tossed and turned in the double bed for several hours while she thought about the mess she'd made of things. She wanted to blame Travis for complicating her plans* but she was honest enough to admit it was her own wounded pride that had landed her smack in the middle of this mire. When Randolph left her wilting at the altar* Emily had been so mortified and embarrassed she'd run headlong into another engagement. She wasn't devastated by Randolph's betrayal. She had never loved him* and it was her own stupid pride and stubbornness that had kept her from admitting it.
What a fool she'd been. She remembered boasting to her parents that she was the one who was responsible for her own future and no one else. She had truly believed that she could control her own destiny and had diligently tried to do just that* with disastrous results. In less than one short week* everything had gotten all twisted around on her* thanks to Travis.
Her destiny had definitely run amuck* and all because she was falling in love with the wrong man. How could such a thing happen so quickly? Love was supposed to build slowly over time* wasn't it? No one ever really fell in love at first sight. Why did she have to be different? Well* her attraction to Travis didn't matter. She wasn't about to let it go any further and tried to convince herself that it was merely an infatuation on her part and nothing more. He'd called it lust* she remembered* and she thought she'd like to bang Millie's frying pan up against his thick head right this minute for believing such a thing. Perhaps then he would have an inkling of the pain he was causing her.
She was appalled by her own shameful thoughts. She had never had violent notions in the past* but then she hadn't known Travis either* and the two did seem to go hand in hand. It was all his fault that she was so miserable* for not only was he trying to steal her heart* he was also turning her into a shrew with criminal inclinations. Why* by the time Travis had left the bedroom tonight* she'd entertained the notion of shooting him in the backside* where* she was certain* his brain was located.
Emily threw off her covers* got out of her bed* and began to pace around the room. What in heaven's name was she going to do about Mr. O'Toole? She couldn't marry him* of course* but how was she going to tell him? She considered writing a letter to him to explain her change of heart* then decided that a cold* impersonal note was a cowardly way out. She certainly hadn't appreciated getting a note from Randolph and Barbara* and she sincerely doubted Mr. O'Toole would appreciate one either. Like it or not* she was going to have to face him when she told him* and all she could do now was fret about it and pray that she could come up with the right words to use so he wouldn't feel she had betrayed him.
Whispers coming from the hallway turned her attention. She tiptoed over to the door* leaned against it* and then heard what sounded like a gun being cocked. There were at least two men in the corridor* perhaps as many as three. One of them was Travis* for she recognized his whisper. Whomever he'd spoken to left in quite a hurry and didn't try to be quiet about it. His boots pounded on the wooden floor as he retreated.
She heard a door slam then. She didn't hear Travis leave though. She battled her curiosity for a long minute and then decided to find out what he was doing.
She was slowly turning the doorknob when he spoke to her.
"Go back to bed* Emily."
She let out a yelp and jumped a good foot. She pulled the door open wider* forgetting for the moment that she was clad in only her nightgown* and when she saw Travis* she took a step back.
He was right outside her door* sprawled on a chair. He looked comfortable. His head was resting against the doorframe with his legs stretched out in front of him* one ankle crossed over the other.
She didn't have to ask him what he was doing. She already knew* and* dear God* how could she not love him? He was staying up all night just to make certain she was safe.
"Travis* I have a bolt on my door. You don't have to worry about me."
"Go back to bed."
"Will you please turn around and look at me? I'm trying to explain that—"
He didn't let her finish. "Are you in your nightgown?"
The question gave her pause. "Yes."
"You won't be wearing it for long if I turn around. Do you want me to be more specific?"
"No. Good night* Travis."
"I thought you'd see it my way."
She shut the door and leaned against it as the tears began to well up in her eyes. She couldn't cry* she told herself. She'd make too much noise* and then he'd know or at least suspect the awful truth.
She was in love with him.
Emily didn't get much sleep that night* yet she felt refreshed when she came downstairs the following morning. She had made several momentous decisions about her future during the black hours of the night* and for the first time in a long while* she felt as though she were in control again. Ever since the fiasco with
Randolph* she'd jumped into one rash thing after another* but fortunately she had finally come to her senses.
She was relieved because she'd realized in time the terrible mistake she would have made if she married Mr. O'Toole. She was also heartsick* because she knew she was going to have to leave Travis.
He was never going to know how she really felt about him. He wasn't the marrying kind* and if she told him she loved him* she would only make him feel uncomfortable. He might also feel sorry for her* and that possibility horrified her.
Come hell or high water* she was going to be cheerful around him. She could cry as much as she wanted once she was on the stagecoach and headed for home. Travis* however* wasn't going to see a single tear.
"Isn't it a fine day* Millie?" she called out as she walked into the kitchen. "Good morning* Travis*" she added when she saw him coming in the back door.
He scowled back at her and mumbled something that might have been a greeting. He was obviously in a foul mood* and she decided to pretend she didn't notice.
Millie placed a large bowl of oatmeal on the table for her. Emily sprinkled it with sugar and ate every bit of it. She drank two full glasses of milk too.
Millie wasn't in a very good mood either. Her gaze darted back and forth between Emily and Travis* and every now and then* she'd mutter something to herself and shake her head.
The second Travis left to saddle their horses* she sat down beside Emily.
"Are you still hell-bent on going to Golden Crest?"
Millie's colorful use of words made Emily smile. "Yes*" she answered. "But I—"
"For the love of the Almighty* stop being so stubborn. You're in for a life of heartache if you marry the wrong man."
Emily reached over and patted her hand. She found Millie's outrage and concern endearing. "I'm not going to marry Clifford O'Toole."
Millie's head snapped up. "You're not?"
"No* I'm not* but I owe it to him to tell him so face-to-face."
"Hogwash."
"It's the right thing to do*" Emily insisted.
"Does Travis know about this?"
She shook her head. "I'll tell him later* when he's in a better mood. Besides* if I tell him now* he might not take me to Golden Crest* and I really owe it to Mr. O'Toole to explain my reasons for changing my mind."
John came into the kitchen with her satchels in his arms. "I'll just give these to Travis*" he remarked as he hurried out the back door.
Emily spotted Travis leading the horses out of the barn. She stood up and turned to Millie.
"Thank you for worrying about me."
"That's what friends do for one another* don't they?"
Emily became teary-eyed. "Yes*" she agreed.
"Will you stop by on your way back?"
"I'll try*" she promised.
Millie patted her on her shoulder. "You've got a good heart* girl. Don't let anyone tell you different."
Emily felt as if she were leaving her best friend. She hurried out the door before she started crying* stopped long enough to thank John* and then ran to Travis.
The couple stood side by side as they watched Emily and Travis leave.
They'd been riding for almost an hour before Emily broke the silence to ask Travis a question. "How long will it take to get to Golden Crest?"
"A while*" he answered. "Are you in a hurry?"
"Yes*" she began. She was going to tell him that the sooner they got to their destination* the sooner they could leave* but Travis's blasphemy distracted her.
"Hell."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Hell*" he muttered once again.
His mood obviously hadn't improved. She waited several minutes before speaking to him again. "I'd like to ask a favor of you."
"No."
She ignored his reply. "When we get to Golden Crest* I would appreciate it if you wouldn't contradict me. No matter what I say to Mr. O'Toole* please go along with it. All right?"
"You're going to pull your helpless act again* aren't you? If he isn't a complete idiot* and I have my doubts about that* he'll see right through your little charade."
She let out a loud sigh in frustration. "Will you try to get along? And don't you dare call me crazy again*" she added when he turned in his saddle to give her a hard* you're-out-of-your-mind look.
"If the petticoat fits* Emily…"
"Oh* and please don't call me Emily in front of him."
"The petticoat fits all right."
She refused to argue. She thought about telling him what her plan was* then decided that because he was in such a horrible mood* he would just have to wait to find out. Besides* in his present frame of mind* she was pretty certain that if she admitted she was going to tell Mr. O'Toole the wedding was off* Travis would turn the horses around and head back to Pritchard. He wouldn't understand how important it was for her to explain in person instead of sending a note. She could never be so cruel to anyone. She knew firsthand how it felt.
Emily spent the rest of the journey worrying. She hoped Mr. O'Toole didn't have a temper* for the thought of having an out-and-out confrontation with him made her stomach ache* and by the time they started the climb up the last hill to the crest* she was so nervous* her hands were visibly shaking.
When they rounded the curve* Travis saw the shotgun trained on the two of them through the branches in the trees.
She saw the dilapidated shack leaning precariously to one side in the center of the dirt yard at the very top of the crest and frowned in reaction. Where was Mr. O'Toole's grand house? He had told her in his letters that his home was nestled in the clouds at the very tip* and since she and Travis couldn't possibly climb any higher without falling off the mountain* she could only come to one conclusion. Travis had obviously taken a wrong turn and Mr. O'Toole's fine house was on the other side of the crest.

[Dalyia]

"Emily* move closer to my right side. Do it now."
The tone of his whisper didn't suggest she dally. She nudged her horse forward into the narrow opening between the rock ledge and Travis* but she didn't really become alarmed until she glanced over and saw his dark expression.
"Is something wrong?" she whispered back.
"Maybe."
He was staring intently at a clump of trees to the west. Something fascinated him* all right. Emily leaned forward in her saddle* peeked around him* and gave the area a thorough once-over. She still couldn't see anything amiss and decided then that he was just being overly cautious.
She turned back to the shack just as the front door opened with a loud groan and a ridiculously attired man came hurrying outside. Her eyes widened* for* honest to Pete* she'd never seen anyone like him. He was tall* skinny* and so filthy he could have blended into the dirt if he hadn't been wearing a ludicrous formal black top hat and red satin suspenders over a stained undershirt and brown pants.
She watched him adjust the straps as he moved toward her. "Good Lord*" she whispered.
Travis waited until the man had reached the center of the yard before ordering him to stop. "Tell your friend to drop his shotgun or I'll shoot him."
The stranger didn't like being told what to do. He squinted his eyes into slits and stared at Travis a long minute before he gave in.
"Git on out of them trees* Roscoe*" he shouted before turning his attention to Emily.
"Are you the Finnegan woman?" he demanded.
Travis didn't give her time to answer. "Who are you?"
His gaze darted back and forth between the two of them. Emily thought he was trying to decide if he should lie or tell the truth. The disgusting man reminded her of a rodent* and every time he glanced her way* she could feel her stomach tighten.
"O'Toole. Clifford O'Toole. Is she our bride?"
Emily let out a gasp. Dear God* the rodent and Clifford O'Toole were one and the same.
"No* I'm not your bride*" she blurted out.
"Our bride?" Travis asked at the very same time.
"We're sharing her*" Clifford explained in a matter-of-fact voice. "Like brothers do*" he added with a shrug* and Emily could have sworn she saw a bug fly out from under his hat.
"How many brothers?" Travis asked in the same mild tone of voice that Clifford had used.
"Just Roscoe and me*" he answered before his gaze settled on Emily once again. "You're her* ain't you?"
She frantically shook her head. "No*" she insisted.
It wasn't the answer he was looking for* she realized. His hand moved toward the gun tucked in his waistband. Clifford gave Travis a quick glance* then suddenly changed his mind. His hand dropped back to his side.
"Then who are you?"
She straightened her shoulders* gave him a scathing look* and said* "I'm Mrs. Travis Clayborne."
If Travis was surprised by her lie* he didn't show it. His attention remained on the brother* Roscoe* who was now running toward Clifford.
Emily was too shaken to look at him. The meaning behind Clifford's explanation had finally sunk in. The two brothers intended to share the same woman* and* dear God* just thinking about it made her want to throw up. She continued to stare at the loathsome rodent in front of her* and* oh* how she wanted to lash out at him for lying to her in his letters.
She shook her head. No* he couldn't have written them* she realized. The letters were written by a refined gentleman* and it was apparent that there wasn't a refined bone in Clifford's body. He couldn't have written poetry either* of course* and she sincerely doubted he could even read or write his own name.
What in God's name had she gotten them into?
She made the mistake of looking at Roscoe then. He resembled his brother and was certainly just as filthy. His hair wasn't covered with a formal top hat though. He had a red silk scarf wrapped around it like a turban* and from the way he was grinning up at her* she thought he believed he was quite fashionable.
Emily wanted to leave with all possible haste. She found Roscoe vile and disgusting* but Clifford was worse. He frightened her. There was a mean look in his eyes that made her skin crawl.
Travis also wanted to leave* but at the moment he had his hands full. He knew there had to be at least one more man stalking them* and he was trying to find him and keep his attention on Clifford and Roscoe at the same time.
"If you ain't ours* what are you doing here?" Clifford asked.
"We took a wrong turn*" she lied. "Travis* we should leave now."
"Don't go rushing off nowhere*" Clifford insisted.
"If she ain't our woman* then where is she?" Roscoe asked his brother.
"You seen a woman going by the name of Finnegan?" Clifford asked her.
She was going to tell them no* then changed her mind. If they thought their bride was on her way to them* they might be more willing to let her and Travis leave in peace.
From the looks on the brothers' faces* she knew it was a remote possibility* but it was all she had and she latched onto it with a vengeance.
"As a matter of fact* my husband and I did meet a lady named Finnegan. Now* what did she tell me to call her? Barbara? No* that wasn't it. Emily*" she added with a nod.
"Is she perty?" Roscoe asked.
"Oh* yes* she's very pretty."
"Where'd you meet up with her?" Clifford asked.
"We were just leaving the Perkinses' home when she arrived. Her escort will probably bring her to you tomorrow."
"Just one man riding shotgun with her?" Clifford wanted to know.
Emily nodded. "Yes. I recall his name too. Daniel Ryan. Perhaps you've heard of him."
The brothers shook their heads. "We don't recollect him*" Roscoe told her. "Why'd you suppose we would?"
"Because he has quite a reputation*" Emily said. She was grimacing inside over the tremor in her voice and prayed they couldn't hear it. If they knew how afraid she was* they might jump to the conclusion that she was lying* and then her game would be over.
"He's a United States marshal."
Clifford scowled. Roscoe spit on the ground. "A lawman coming up here?" Roscoe muttered to his brother. "I don't like the sound of that."
"I don't like it neither*" Clifford said.
Travis wasn't paying much attention to the conversation. His gaze continued to scan the trees* looking for the enemy.
"Maybe we can get us two brides*" Roscoe whispered loud enough for both Emily and Travis to hear.
Clifford nodded* and it was apparent from the way he was staring at Travis that he'd already made up his mind.
Travis saw the silver gleam coming from the tree to the east just as Clifford let out a shout.
"Shoot him down* Giddy."
Travis's gun was out of his holster and firing before Clifford had finished bellowing the obscene order. A scream came from the trees* a branch snapped* and everyone but Travis turned to watch the brothers' cohort crash to the ground.
Clifford and Roscoe were smart enough not to go for their weapons. Roscoe dropped the shotgun and put his hands in the air* but Clifford stubbornly kept his hands down at his sides. They were balled into fists.
"He killed Giddy*" Roscoe muttered.
"There weren't no call for that*" Clifford said.
The two brothers shared a nod and then began to slowly edge apart.
They stopped when Travis cocked his gun.
"Take the lead down the hill*" Travis told Emily.
He didn't have to repeat himself. She was so terrified now she almost dropped the reins when she forced her mount to back up and turn around.
Travis hadn't spared her a single glance from the moment he'd spotted the bastard hiding in the trees with his shotgun. He ignored her now while he continued to search for more brothers lurking about* waiting for an opportunity to ambush him* but* damn* he couldn't find them* and time was running out.
He made Roscoe and Clifford remove their guns and toss them in the water trough and then made them do the same thing with their boots. Once they were finished* he ordered them to lie on their stomachs with their hands up over their heads.
He still didn't take his gaze off them* trusting his horse to find his way down the path while he turned in his saddle so he could keep his gun trained on them.
He didn't turn around until the brothers were out of sight* and when he did* he goaded his stallion into a full gallop. He reached Emily's side* slapped her mount on his hindquarters* and sent him flying into a gallop too.
He deliberately stayed behind her so that he could protect her back* and for that reason* he was an easy target. The shot still caught him by surprise. The bullet went into his back* and damn* but it burned. He could feel himself slipping to the side* and with his last ounce of strength* he threw himself forward. He grabbed hold of his horse's mane with his left hand and tried to turn so he could fire his gun with his other hand.
He was too weak to lift his weapon. Emily was stopping now to help him. He tried to tell her to keep going* but all he could get out was one harsh word.
"No."
And then she was by his side and taking his gun away from him. He tried to focus on her* but the blackness before his eyes was making it impossible. He knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he passed out* and he desperately wanted to get her to safety first.
"Get out of here*" he whispered.
"Hold on*" Emily cried out.
She reached over* took the reins away from him* and forced his stallion to veer with hers toward the cluster of trees near the base of the first incline. Shots echoed around them as they entered the protection of the pines. The horses made another sharp turn before coming to an abrupt stop at the edge of a bluff.