by Ivy McAdams
“Go!” she breathed, setting Clover off at a gallop once more.
They thundered across the soft dirt outside the post office, passing a mail delivery coach much like the one she’d watched the Van den Bergs rob days ago, and across the train tracks. Once in the wide stretch of grass, Sadie gave the mare enough rein to open out and run at full speed.
She had no idea what she'd say to Clay once she reached him. An apology didn't seem like enough. The thought of telling him he was right stung a little, but it was true. He had been right about what she wanted, about what she needed. She didn't need to become a rancher's wife, a slave to the plantation and following Robert's orders. She needed a man who could take care of her and wouldn't be angry if she took care of herself.
She could tell him all these things, but what she really wanted to do was throw herself into his arms. She wanted that fiery touch on her skin and his mouth on hers, claiming her the way he had in the cabin. And outside the barn. Nothing had prepared her for that, and nothing would ever come close to comparing to it again.
There was no room for cold clammy hands and touches with no spark in her life. Not when there was a man that could give her everything she needed.
Her cheeks warmed, and a smile spread over her face as she stared at Clay’s nearing form. She was almost close enough to yell out at him. To beg him to stop and listen.
Except they were not alone.
Another movement caught her eye.
Two other men were riding in from the west road, horses pointed at a diagonal to slide into Clay’s path.
The men were dressed in dark duster coats and black hats. They gestured to each other, pointing in Clay’s direction. For a moment Sadie thought they might be other Van den Bergs. Had the three of them been in Emerald Falls for another heist? More chaos? Then one of the men lifted a revolver to arm’s length and aimed at Clay.
Croakers.
Sadie’s lungs seized up like crystal.
They were going to kill Clay. Her brain was lost in a moment of panic before she set her jaw.
She heeled Clover hard in the flank, and they flew forward. Sadie coaxed their direction away from Clay and into the approaching Croakers.
She had no plan, but there was no way she was going to let them shoot Clay. As they neared the men, she lifted up in her saddle enough to get a good glimpse at her outlaw. He was still riding for the forest without a look back. She shouted his name.
The Croakers looked over at her, but she was already upon them. She pulled back on the reins with all her might, spinning Clover around, and they slid into the nearest Croaker. The mare’s hefty hindquarters barrelled into the Croaker horse. Both he and the animal went flying, and the four of them crashed to the ground.
The impact catapulted her over Clover’s shoulder and into the grass and rocks below. The ground slammed against her, knocking the air from her lungs.
Clear blue sky stretched over her for miles. The bright sun pierced her eyes.
Her chest hurt.
She needed air. Sadie arched her back and opened her lungs, finally drawing in a fresh breath. It set her brain back on track, and she recalled her predicament.
Clay!
Scrambling around to her stomach and up to her knees, she looked around. Clover was sitting on her haunches, head lowered and sides heaving. She looked tired but not seriously injured. Near her the Croaker she’d collided with lay in a heap on the ground next to his stretched out black horse. The beast was breathing, but he wasn’t making an attempt to get up.
Sadie got to her feet, dusting dirt and debris from her dress while looking for the other gunman. She heard the thundering of his horse’s hooves before she turned to see him coming at her. The scowl on his bearded face was enough to turn her blood to ice. He gave a war cry as he lifted his gun in her direction, and she ducked down, scouring the ground around her for a rock or something to throw.
The end was near. She was without a weapon or a horse. She’d either be shot or trampled. She steeled her nerves, glancing down for just an instant and snatching up a jagged-edge rock. When she looked back up, she didn’t even get a chance to throw before the gunshot.
She gasped, her entire body frozen in shock as the Croaker’s hat popped off and went flying. He frowned and looked around with a twitch in his eye. Several yards behind them, Georgene’s creamy body flashed by.
“Clay!” Sadie gasped.
The hatless Croaker pulled his horse about as he neared her, spinning around to face his attacker and lifting his gun again. Clay was turning Georgene in a wide circle to come back to them. She wanted to scream his name and tell him to go back. It was too dangerous! But there wasn’t enough time for that.
She rolled the rock in her hand and pitched it at the back of the Croaker’s red horse. It hit the tender thigh muscle above the joint, and the horse exploded. It screamed and leapt forward, then reared back so far it nearly toppled over. The Croaker fell from his saddle with a shout. Without so much as a look behind it, the horse took off across the field, stirring up dust and causing a commotion.
Sadie sat silently for a moment, then leaned forward to peek at the downed Croaker. The man was sprawled out against the grass, eyes closed, and no gun in sight. She took a long breath, finally letting her adrenaline slow down.
Hoofbeats rattled the rocks beneath her knees, and she turned to find Georgene trotting up next to her. Her eyes trailed up the horse's body and were stabbed by the bright sun rays. She put a hand up to shield her face. Clay's black hat encircled his face, sunbeams pouring down on either side. It was almost too dark to see his face, but she didn't need to see him to feel the wash of relief. Especially when he leaned over and put out a hand to help her up.
His hand on hers was everything right in the world. She clutched it and leapt up as he hauled her onto Georgene’s back behind him. She slid into place behind his saddle, wrapping her arms around his torso and leaning into him. His strong, solid form beckoned her, and she pressed every inch of her body into the back of his.
He didn’t speak a word as he turned the horse away from the mess and rode on. She held back a torrent of emotion at touching Clay again, resting her nose against his shoulder and breathing in his familiar oaky scent. Her fingers pressed into the hard muscles of his chest beneath his thin shirt.
She would return with him to the hideout. She would trade a sure, safe marriage and a chance at a community for the love and passion she had with Clay. Just touching him there on fleeing horseback made her feel more alive than she had in days.
The feeling was shattered when a bullet hit the dirt next to them. His muscles tensed under her hands. She twisted to look back over her shoulder.
The hatless Croaker was up again and on the move. He whipped Clover into a full gallop, a revolver pointed at them as he yelled into the wind.
Clay reached back to loop an arm through her knee as he urged Georgene to pick up the pace, weaving in and out of sagebrush. Sadie grabbed hold of him as another bullet flew by.
They had to get rid of the Croaker. There was no way they’d make it all the way to the trees with that guy on their tail. He was too close, and it was only a matter of time before one of his bullets found them. But Clay had his hands full. One on the reins and one on her. She debated kicking him off her leg, but the extra hold on her felt so safe and grounding. Instead, she slid a hand down his hip and pulled the revolver from his holster. With an awkward twist, she extended one arm out behind them and fired a shot.
The Croaker ducked and shouted obscenities. Clover bellowed her discomfort, and Sadie bit into her lip. She said a silent prayer as she aimed again, hoping her shots stayed over the mare’s head.
A bump in the saddle made her second shot go wild. When one of the Croaker’s bullets whizzed by her ear, she swallowed a knot of panic and steeled her nerves. She aimed again, holding just as tight to Clay as she was the revolver. The bullet exploded free and struck the Croaker square in the chest. He flipped off the back of
the horse as if he’d been jerked from behind. With a somersault through the air, he landed in a dust cloud on the ground.
Her body collapsed against Clay’s in relief.
Georgene slowed, and they turned in a tight circle to survey the attackers behind them. The tips of the grass moved in the wind, but the only other movement was that of Clover as she plodded slowly toward them.
The threat was gone.
Clay pulled the buckskin mare to a stop and threw his leg over her neck to slide. When he stood next to Sadie and reached for her waist, the rim of his hat tipped into the air, and the sunlight caught his eyes. She'd never seen them so bright and open or creased in concern.
Her heart melted into his awaiting hands.
His fingers around her waist were gentle but firm as he lifted her from the back of the horse and lowered her to the ground in front of him. Then those hands were in her hair, sliding up the back of her neck and molding his fingers into her, just as she’d imagined him doing for the last three nights.
“I saw you and your horse crash into that fella. And―and you flew off. Are you okay?”
His head lowered, covering her with the edge of his hat, and he touched his forehead to hers.
She closed her eyes, letting the very feel and smell of him envelop her, but she was reluctant to reach out for him completely yet.
“I’m alive,” she whispered. “On the outside at least.”
His fingers gripped tighter in her hair, and she could almost swear she heard a catch in his breath.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“Running. I thought I might be able to find the hideout. I needed to talk to you.”
He pulled them apart just far enough to look down at her. His eyes held her tight, and she struggled for resolve. If she didn’t get out what she wanted to say, she was afraid she’d let him sweep her away and never be able to again.
“I’m all ears for you, darlin’.”
Her throat itched and threatened to close up, but she swallowed her nerves and pushed through. “This has been a horrifying experience, coming to terms with what I thought was the truth and what was real. With both Papa and you.” She flexed her fingers against the side of her dress, fidgeting and trying to push the words out before they escaped. “I always thought I was where I was supposed to be and doing what I was supposed to do. Then I found out it was all wrong. All a lie.”
“Just because Jed Tanner was not your father does not mean he didn’t love you.”
“I know.” Tears tickled her eyes. “Just because you’re not who he chose for me does not mean you’re not the best choice.”
He drew in a long breath as he fit his warm palm against her cheek.
“I’ve never felt so lost and empty than the last few days,” she continued. “Living without you. Trying to survive without seeing you. Hearing you.” Her hands finally trembled up his chest and held onto the strong muscles of his neck and shoulders. “Touching you.”
The moment that her eyes lowered, he tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her head up to look at him. She bit back the tears, overwhelmed by both love and fear.
“I don’t want to feel that ever again,” she whispered.
“I don’t want you to either.” His thumb caressed over her cheek. “Being without you has been torture. I didn’t know I could feel such pain as when you turned me away at the barn. Somehow I thought I would be enough for you.”
Regret choked her. She never should have turned him away.
“The Clay I met in the forest is. The one who kissed me next to the river and visited my cabin in the woods is. Before Ace poked his nose into things. I love that Clay, and I want him.”
He moved in closer to her, lips nearly brushing hers. She pulled in his breath, sliding her fingers back into his long honey locks. She could feel the warmth of his lips as he spoke.
"That Clay is waiting for you. He didn't make it out of town unscathed. I've never cared what the people of town―any town―thought of me for my entire life until I went there with you. Hearing the denial on your beautiful lips was agony."
“I will never deny you again.”
“I’m glad to hear that, darlin’. Here’s your chance.”
Sadie frowned. Then she realized his face wasn’t as close to hers anymore. His eyes stared over her head, and she spun around.
Emerald Falls lay several hundred yards to the south of them. Approaching in less than half that distance was a familiar black horse.
Robert Murphy.
Chapter 23
Robert’s horse slid to a stop a couple wagon lengths away from them, and he drew his rifle. His brow was creased and eyes wild under a smear of red sweaty dirt.
“Run, Sadie!” he shouted as he pointed the rifle in Clay’s direction.
Clay grabbed Sadie by the arm and stepped around her, drawing his revolver.
“No, stop!” Sadie slapped a hand out to block the handgun.
Clay looked at her in surprise, but she pressed a forearm into his chest to back him up a step. His eyes snapped back to Robert, but he complied, moving back at her request until she was in front of him again. She pushed his revolver back to his hip, and he lowered it, reholstering the gun with a quick spin.
“What’s going on, Sadie?” Clay murmured through a tight jaw.
She fought the urge to run her fingers over the taut muscles in his face, the alluring stubble on his chin. She didn't want him to be so vexed, especially because of her. Instead, she patted an open palm lightly on his chest, letting it linger as she turned to glance at Robert over her shoulder.
“He’s no threat,” she said. “He probably doesn’t even know how to shoot that gun.”
Robert’s face tightened, and his nose curled into a snarl. He readjusted the rifle on his shoulder.
“Sadie,” he called, hesitation marring his voice. “Step away from that man before he hurts you.”
She turned to face him, setting her hands on her hips. When she didn’t budge, his eyebrows moved in a mix of confusion and annoyance.
“Hurry, step away,” he said. “I’ve got him in my sights. He can just leave in that direction, and we will go home.”
The crease in her brow grew, and she took a step backward with a defiant narrow of her eyes. When her back touched Clay's chest, she dropped a hand behind her to catch his, bringing it around her waist. Clay needed little persuasion, and he held her tight about her ribs.
Robert looked between the two of them with growing agitation. “What is this?” he barked.
“I don’t need rescuing, Robert,” she said with an even tone. “I may have before, but that time has passed. There’s nothing I need rescuing from.”
“This man,” Robert spat, glaring up and down Clay’s form, “he’s not from around here. Do you even know him?”
Sadie tilted her head back to look up at Clay. His face was stoic, calm, shadowed by his hat, but even in the dark, his eyes glowed for her. Held her and caressed her without the slightest movement. The primal urge he conjured within her was a drive so strong she could not deny it. She stretched a hand over her shoulder and ran her fingers up along the rough underside of his jaw and trailed them down the tender flesh of his throat.
Without letting her eyes fall away from his, she spoke aloud.
“Of course I know him. I know him more than any other person in this world, and I am a better person because of it.”
Clay’s face remained solid, but his eyes twinkled in the corners. His fingers pressed into her ribs, pulling her even closer to his body. She was tempted to turn and press into him, to just tackle him to the ground there in the field.
Robert snorted a dirty and disgusted laugh. “Are you serious? You and this stranger? Such a filthy dove.”
Clay’s chin popped up, and he glared at the other man. Robert flinched slightly, dropping a hand on his rifle to his reins.
A grin twitched on her lips at Robert's reaction. His words stung, but they held so li
ttle weight to her anymore.
Perhaps it’d been silly to allow a stranger to soil her when she’d had an agreeable man ready to marry her. But she thanked her stars for it. To find out how truly boring and ungentlemanly Robert was before she’d married him was a blessing. To find a man so beautiful and passionate as Clay, someone that lifted up her soul and made her feel alive, was an even bigger one.
Nothing Robert said to her could destroy her anymore.
Clay’s muscles were tense against her. Like a loaded spring. She pressed back against him in hopes of calming him. Then she glared at Robert.
“Go on home,” she said. “I’m sure there are plenty of woman back there who will have you.”
“Of course there are,” he said. “They’ll be better fits for me too. At least my wife won’t be raising my daughters to wear pants and shoot guns.”
“Well someone in the relationship has to,” Clay snorted.
Robert snarled, turning his fidgeting horse in a circle. “I should have known you were too different. No amount of money is worth fostering a sloppily-dressed whore.”
Sadie gasped, but she had little time to be offended. She stumbled to the side as Clay pushed his way through her. His revolver was in the air, and she cried out as she reached for him.
He was too fast.
A shot pinged off metal. Robert yelped, throwing his reverberating rifle to the ground. Then another shot. A cloud of dust exploded from his hat as the bullet struck it, and his horse jumped up with a squeal, nearly knocking him to the ground. With a horror-stricken look back, Robert rammed his heels into his horse, and the two took off over the wide-open field, headed back to Emerald Falls.
Sadie leapt into Clay’s arms and folded into him. He holstered his gun and embraced her fully, curling around her shoulder to press his nose into her neck. His warm breath on her ear sent chills down her spine.
“He’s a fool,” he breathed. “I hope one day you’ll teach our children to be just as spunky and strong as you.”