Spirit of Love

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Spirit of Love Page 17

by Duncan, Alice


  “Don’t worry, child. I’ll help you.”

  Georgina jumped a foot and jerked her head around, staring blankly toward the voice. Devlin O’Rourke! It was Dev! Thank God, thank God. Maybe he could help her. Since she’d become accustomed to speaking to the ghost as if he were a real person, she missed the puzzled look on her captor’s face. With a thrill in her heart, she cried, “Oh, my! What are you doing here?”

  Her enemy said, “I’m talkin’ to you, lady.”

  Why was that beast talking to her as if he couldn’t see Dev? Georgina recalled with a start that Dev could appear to whomever he pleased, and evidently he hadn’t pleased to be seen by the gunman. That might be a good thing. Or it might not. Whatever it was, she felt somewhat more brave now that she knew she wasn’t, entirely alone. She frowned at the man with the gun. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”

  “Keep your spirits up, lass. We’ll take care of this creature.”

  Dev spoke bracingly, which irked Georgina. She didn’t need moral support. She needed to be rescued. “What can you do?”

  The brute with the gun said, “I can do any damned thing I want to do, and don’t think I can’t.”

  His words, and the tone with which he spoke them, went a long way toward vanquishing Georgina’s trepidation. She detested impertinent people. “Will you be still? Your constant interruptions are very rude.”

  “Who the hell are you talkin’ to, lady? What are you, some kind of loon?”

  Georgina’s temper snapped entirely. She’d had enough of people calling her a lunatic because she was being driven wild by monstrous circumstances and an incredibly annoying ghost. “No, I am not a loon, you devil! And don’t call me lady in that impudent manner!”

  He laughed wickedly. The man had the audacity to laugh at her! Outraged, Georgina instinctively moved her hand toward the buggy whip, but the click of the Colt’s hammer being drawn back stayed her. Blast! Whatever could she do now? Fling the ghost at him? It was an appealing thought, but she couldn’t get a firm grip on Devlin O’Rourke.

  “You and me, we’re gonna have us some fun.” The man winked suggestively.

  Georgina, pushed by circumstances and two very irritating men, understood exactly what he meant. She was almost too mad to be frightened. She wouldn’t panic. She wouldn’t. “I sincerely doubt it.” Her voice was as sour as lemon juice.

  He laughed at her again, a laugh that once more made her long for a bigger gun.

  Ash held a firm appreciation for the perils of travel in southeastern New Mexico Territory. The terrain was rough, and even the most experienced cowboys found it difficult to navigate. Today, however, he pushed Shiloh harder than was usual for him because he was in such a state of anxiety.

  When he heard a horse behind him, looked, and beheld Payton Pierce on his fine-boned gray—a showy horse unsuitable, in Ash’s opinion, for the rigors of the West—he pressed Shiloh even harder.

  “Sorry, boy, but I don’t want that stupid banker riding with us.” He was sure Shiloh would understand and approve of his desire in this instance, since Shiloh, a fine, sturdy piece of horseflesh, made a mockery of Pierce’s gray.

  “Wait up!”

  Pierce’s shrill tenor voice made Ash wince. He hunched over and pretended he hadn’t heard. He kicked Shiloh gently and sped up a bit more.

  Ash Barrett, sheriff of Picacho Wells, wasn’t about to deputize Payton Pierce to hunt bad men with him. And he wasn’t going to allow an unofficially deputized citizen to act as a deputized one, either. Anyway, he’d already decided he was going to rescue Georgina Witherspoon by himself or die trying.

  “Put that buggy whip back where it belongs and get down off that buggy. Now.” The scoundrel made a gesture with his gun hand, and eyed her with a wicked gleam.

  Georgina carefully slid the buggy whip—and a whole lot of good that had done her—into its holder and considered her situation. The derringer was out of the question—it was also on the floor. The buggy whip was also out of the question. Piffle. What was she supposed to do now? Throw Aunt Vernice’s paisley calico at him?

  “Do what the man says, child.”

  Although she appreciated Dev’s attempt at help in this perilous circumstances, she wished he’d go back to the Murphy place and haunt her grandmother. His comments disconcerted her and interfered with her thought processes during what might well be a life-or-death confrontation.

  Oh, dear Lord. It truly was a life-or-death confrontation, wasn’t it? For a second, fright almost overwhelmed her, but she crushed it beneath her anger. She was up to this. She was up to anything, blast it! She had to think of something. If she didn’t, that awful man would force himself on her and she’d sooner die—although that option didn’t appeal to her either. Furious that so many things were beyond her control, she snapped at Dev, “Why should I?”

  “Because I told you to.” The man with the gun sounded peeved.

  His peevishness was nothing compared to Georgina’s. “I wasn’t talking to you!” She pressed a hand to her forehead, wishing she could think clearly. But how could she? With a gunman in front of her and a ghost behind her, she was completely distracted.

  Dev said, “Because I don’t want him to shoot you before I can think of some way to thwart him.”

  “But I don’t want you to do anything.” That’s all Georgina needed, she thought dismally, was to have the ghost of Devlin O’Rourke do something that would get her killed. As if she wasn’t in enough peril already.

  “Pisht, Georgina, you’re turning out to be stubborn as your grandmother.” Even Dev sounded peevish now.

  The outlaw scowled at her. “That’s too bad, lady. I’m the one with the gun, and you’re going to do what I say.”

  Irked by Dev’s assessment of her, she cried, “I am not!” not realizing that the gunman thought she was shouting at him.

  “You are, too. Even if you don’t have red hair.” Dev shouted back. The noise made Georgina’s nerves jangle like Christmas bells.

  The gunman, clearly frustrated with the situation, growled, “You are, too. If you don’t believe me, I’ll give you a demonstration.”

  He fired a shot into the ground beside the buggy. Startled, the horse shuffled sideways, and Georgina had to calm him down before she could turn her attention to her tormenter. “Will you stop that? There’s no need to frighten my horse!”

  “Get the hell down from that buggy,” he commanded. “Now.”

  “For God’s sake, do as he says, child!” Dev’s voice shook, as if he were afraid. Wonderful. If even the ghost, who was already dead, was afraid of this beastly gunman, what could she do?

  Georgina didn’t think any of this was fair. Since, however, she hadn’t yet come up with a plan to rescue herself, and since she was feeling besieged from all sides, she grumbled, “Oh, very well,” and climbed down from the buggy. She pretended to stumble as she did and as she crawled up off the ground, she grabbed the derringer and shoved it into her pocket.

  The damned banker’s horse was faster than he looked. Ash still hadn’t managed to shake Payton Pierce. He guessed he’d just have to put up with an onlooker, then, because he wasn’t going to stop and try to reason with the fool man.

  When he heard a gunshot not far off, the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. He swore fiercely and kicked Shiloh into a ground-swallowing gallop.

  “Be careful, boy. Don’t fall, whatever you do.”

  His brain chanted Georgina, Georgina, Georgina, as he rode. He’d have given anything he owned—hell, he’d have stolen something and used that—to have her safely in Picacho Wells just then.

  Shiloh evidently shared his rider’s concern. He managed to avoid all the gopher and prairie-dog holes in his way as he tore across the plains.

  Even over the clatter of Shiloh’s hooves, Ash heard Pierce’s gray.

  “That’s better,” the man with the gun said. He was smirking again.

  “I sincerely doubt it.” Georgina wanted to cross her arms over her stoma
ch to hold her anxiety inside, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Sweet heaven, what was she going to do?

  “For the love of Christ; child, don’t make the man mad.”

  Blast the interfering ghost! Georgina was upset enough without him interrupting. She snapped, “He must already be mad, or he wouldn’t be doing such things.”

  She still might be able to use the derringer, so she discreetly fluffed her skirt to make sure the folds of her dress didn’t block the pocket containing the gun. If worse came to worst, she’d wait until he had her pinned down and shoot him in the belly. Dear Lord, what a time to find out why they called them belly guns!

  The outlaw walked over to her, sauntering in a way Georgina considered both ill-bred and portentous. She wished he wasn’t so big. “You sure are a hellcat, ain’t you lady?”

  She drew herself up. She would not show him any fear. “No I am not. And you sir, are no gentleman.”

  Dev appeared overhead, fluttering transparently. “Be careful, girl. Try not to antagonize him.”

  She ground her teeth together and told herself not to scream. “He s already antagonized.”

  “Oh, so I’m not a gentleman, eh? And I’m antagonized, am I?”

  Dev fluttered harder. “For the love of God, Georgina. If he shoots you, your grandmother will never agree to spend eternity with me.”

  Georgina, beside herself, cried, “Is that all you can think about in this situation? Yourself? I can’t believe this!”

  “What the hell are you talking about now? I think you’re crazy, lady.”

  “I’m not crazy!”

  “Georgina! Calm yourself this minute. I have a plan.” Dev’s voice sounded firm.

  Georgina tried to calm down. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew the ghost was right. If she aggravated this wretch too much, he’d probably shoot her even before he raped her. She took a deep breath, hoping it would help. It didn’t, but she muttered, “All right.” Because she couldn’t help it, she ground out, “This isn’t fair.”

  The gunman eyed her suspiciously. “You’re nuts, lady.”

  “I am not!” Oh, dear, she hadn’t meant to screech. Now she’d made him angry.

  He walked over to her and she braced herself. He didn’t hit her, thank God, but he looked meaner than ever. “Get the hell over there.”

  He grabbed her arm and flung her at the buggy. She stumbled, but managed to gain her balance before she fell. She held a protest in check.

  “Nuts or not, I aim to enjoy myself before I leave this town for good, believe me.”

  Georgina’s heart sped up and seemed to lodge itself somewhere in her throat. This was going to be the ultimate test of her strength of spirit and intelligence. She’d either ward him off or die trying.

  She shut her eyes tightly and opened them again. She wouldn’t panic. She wouldn’t show this man that she was afraid of him, no matter how terrified she was Instead she glowered at him to let him know that while he might have the larger gun, he was the lesser human being.

  Sweet God in heaven, that was her buggy. Ash’s heart fell sickeningly as he reined Shiloh in. And that was the man he’d followed out of town. He’d been right about the bastard.

  Ash frowned furiously at Pierce, who pulled his horse up next to Shiloh. “What’s going on?” Pierce’s tenor squeaked so badly, Ash would have snorted in derision if he hadn’t been so worried about Georgina.

  “Look for yourself,” he ground out. “But keep your damned voice down.”

  “There’s no need to swear, Sheriff.”

  “God dammit,” muttered Ash, which he figured pretty much told Pierce what he thought of his observation. Pierce shaded his eyes and squinted into the distance.

  “Good God, that man is accosting Miss Witherspoon!”

  “Yes, dammit.”

  Pierce scowled at Ash, who scowled back. The banker apparently decided to take Ash to task for his language later. “What are we going to do?”

  “You’re not going to do anything. I’m going to save her, but I . . . have to think of a plan first. If we just ride up on him, he’s liable to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “I don’t care what you say. I’m going to help you save her.”

  “Curse it, you’re not the sheriff of Picacho Wells. I am.”

  “I don’t care who you are. I’m going to help rescue Miss Witherspoon.”

  “I haven’t deputized you, Pierce. You stay out of it.”

  “I will not.”

  “Confound it, stop being stupid. You’re not fit to be rescuing ladies from outlaws.”

  “I’m as fit as you are.”

  Ash turned in his saddle so as to look Pierce square in the face. “Hogwash! I’ve been in the Indian army and I’m a duly authorized sheriff. You’re a damned banker!”

  “I may be a banker, but I also know how to shoot a gun!” Pierce turned, too, and glared straight at Ash.

  Ash supposed he was trying to look fierce, but to Ash he looked merely petulant “I’m not going to argue with you about it. You stay right here, Pierce.”

  “I will not”

  Ash rolled his eyes and wondered if he’d get in trouble for laying the chowderheaded banker out cold.

  Dev said, “What I’m going to do is appear to this man and scare him, Georgina. Then, when he’s off guard, you get out your derringer and shoot him.”

  Nervously fingering her skirt, wondering exactly when she should reach for the derringer, Georgina asked, “What if he isn’t scared?”

  “I’m not scared, lady, and don’t you think it.” The gunman gestured with his gun for her to move to the back of the buggy.

  Georgina pressed a hand to her cheek and wished her brain would stop jumping and skipping about. She was so scared, she was getting light-headed. And things only seemed to keep getting worse.

  “He’ll be scared.” Dev gave Georgina a little ghostly peck on the cheek, for encouragement she presumed. She didn’t need encouragement, she needed Ash to come save her, blast it. “Remember how scared you were when I first appeared to you.”

  “Yes,” Georgina said grimly. “I remember.”

  Her tormentor glowered at her: “What the hell are you talking about now? What do you remember?”

  “I’m not talking to you!”

  “Dammit, lady, how come you keep saying you’re not talking to me, when I’m the only one around here?”

  “You are not.” She was going to faint. No, she wasn’t. She couldn’t faint. If she fainted, he’d have won. Lord, she wished this was over.

  “I’m going to distract him now, Georgina. Be prepared.”

  Dev appeared directly above the villain.

  She said through her teeth, “I’m prepared.”

  “Oh, really?” The outlaw reached for his belt buckle and unfastened it. “So am I, lady. In fact, I’m gonna lift up your skirt and have me some fun. What do you think about that?”

  Georgina’s heart gave a terrified spasm, but she squared her shoulders and glared at him. “I think you’re disgusting.”

  “Whooooooo!” cried ‘Devlin O’Rourke suddenly. “Boooooooo!’’

  Georgina let out about a bushel of air she’d been holding when the gunman gave a start of horror and spun around. She had to give Dev credit. He scared the bejeebers out of her adversary when he materialized suddenly to one side of him, waving his arms like a demented scarecrow. Somehow or other he’d made his hair stand on end, too, so he really did look quite ghostly, even if it was full daylight.

  The scoundrel uttered a loud scream and fired a wild shot at the ghost. “What the hell are you?” He shot again, crazily.

  Georgina realized that Dev had carefully chosen the location of his materialization. If he’d appeared directly in front of the ghastly man, the villain might have shot through him and hit Georgina by accident. As it was, his bullets were flying off into the desert, harming nothing and no one. She grabbed the derringer out of her pocket. Finally, she might have a cha
nce to use it.

  “I am the ghost of all your victims,” Dev said in a ghoulish voice. Then he whooed and booed again, and again the outlaw shot at him, turning white with panic.

  Georgina, although badly frightened, had been keeping careful count. That was four shots so far, including the one he’d already fired into the ground. According to Grandmother Murphy, gentlemen often left one chamber open to avoid shooting themselves in the foot and so forth when they were in their cups. Since this man was obviously no gentleman, Georgina decided she’d better not depend on an open chamber. She shouted, “Scare him again, Mr. O’Rourke!”

  The gunman whirled around and fired a shot in Georgina’s direction. She shrieked and ducked instinctively.

  Dev shouted, “Be careful, Georgina! His gun might not be empty!”

  Terrified and more angry than she’d ever been in her entire life, Georgina fired a shot at the outlaw. He screamed again. She hoped it was because her bullet had found its mark.

  “Georgina! Georgina! What the hell are you doing?”

  That voice! Georgina whirled around, her derringer pointed.

  Good Lord! It was Ash and Mr. Pierce. She couldn’t remember ever being so happy to see anyone.

  “Whoooooooo!” Dev cried desperately. Georgina realized he was trying to keep her tormenter occupied so he couldn’t shoot either of the men who had finally showed up. “Booooooo! Whoooooo!”

  “Aaaaaaaargh!” cried the gunman. He shot at Dev one more time and then again, on an empty chamber. Then he screamed once more, and threw the gun at the ghost.

  It was the chance Georgina had been waiting for. Ignoring Ash Barrett and Payton Pierce, she walked right straight up to the villain and shot him in the thigh.

 

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