The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances

by Hubbard, Lynn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “You can come out now,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Chapter 11

  Brock was speechless, Will had transformed into a girl in front of his eyes. He watched dumbfounded as the girl grabbed her shirt flaps and held them against her chest. He stepped in front of her, blocking her from the sight of others.

  Sabrina’s growing breasts had become more noticeable as she’d grown older. She kept them lightly bound and usually wore a vest or jacket to conceal them.

  Apparently, in shock, Brock was still staring at her chest as she tried to redo the ruined buttons with her hand bleeding all over everything.

  “You okay, Will?” Thomas called out in concern.

  “Yup, fine!” Sabrina said, still in panic mode.

  Finally coming to his senses Brock reached out for Sabrina. “I saw a stream nearby,” he called, “we’ll be right back.” He quickly moved her deeper into the woods.

  Her arm hurt where he gripped it. She was worried he was just making the stream part up. However, there was a stream nearby, and Brock stopped when he reached it. He quickly took off his leather vest and undid his shirt. Sabrina’s eyes widened in panic and she took a step backwards.

  Brock
looked disgusted. “I’m not going to hurt you. Your shirt is ruined; you can wear mine and we’ll use yours to bind your hand unless you want to bleed to death.” He turned around so his back faced her and held out his arm. His shirt dangled from his hand.

  Sabrina stared at his back in surprise. He had several scars on his back she had not noticed before and Sabrina felt an impulse to reach out and trace them with her finger. She felt light headed, maybe from the blood loss. Shaking her head to clear it, she regained focus.

  Thoughts swirled through Brock’s head. He was angry. He had been duped all this time. Here he was thinking something was morally wrong with him and feeling guilty, and she was a girl all the time. A part of him was relieved. A second part wondered why the hell his brain was slower to catch on than his body? Looking back, there were definitely signs; he had missed them all. Yes, he was angry all right but he didn’t know if he was more mad at her or himself.

  Practical as ever, Sabrina undid the bindings around her chest and put her bloodstained shirt back on. “We can use my body wrapping to bandage my hand,” Sabrina said. Makes no sense to get blood on it, too.” She held out the binding material to him with her good hand. Brock turned around, nodding; it was much better material to use as a bandage than her shirt. Sabrina bit her lip. Not wanting to look up at his face, her eyes dropped to his smooth bare chest. If his back was nice his chest was exquisite; she looked down quickly as he moved towards her.

  Taking the bandage material from her, he knelt at the edge of the creek and guided her down next to him. He took her hand and rinsed it well in the cool water using his deft fingers to rub off the dried blood surrounding the wound. Sabrina hissed but refused to complain. It hurt like the dickens but she knew it was necessary.

  Removing her hand from the water, he quickly wrapped and bound the wound just tight enough to help stop the bleeding. Brock refused to look at any other part of her except her hand and she swore his cheeks had a pink tint. Sabrina smiled in spite of herself. If the situation wasn’t so serious it would have been funny.

  Standing up, he pulled her to her feet and again turned his back offering her his shirt. Sabrina discarded her old one and took his, pulling it on gratefully. She awkwardly buttoned it with one hand but she’d be damned if she was going to ask him for any help. She looked up at him as he stood guard with his back to her. She wondered if he was getting impatient but Brock stood like a statue, staring straight ahead not moving at all. Finally finishing the last button, she cleared her throat nervously. The shirt billowed out around her since it was so large. It hung down to her knees. She thought about trying to tuck it in but with her bad hand it would be difficult, plus it was too much material to smooth out.

  Brock turned and nodded his approval, not meeting her eyes. He picked up his vest and her ruined shirt. He put the vest on wearing nothing underneath. Sabrina almost swooned at the sight of his muscular arms and bare chest peeking out from the opening in the vest. She was only feeling faint from blood loss, she told herself, following him back through the woods to the others.

  Sabrina was worried by Brock’s silence. She knew he was angry from the clenching of his jaw and dark stare when he did look at her. She felt guilty for lying to him. He had taken her in, given her a home and it was all based on lies. She would have much preferred him to yell at her than to treat her with stony silence. Her heart ached for him.

  Brock was pleased to see the other men had done as they were ordered. They had even managed to retrieve some of the outlaws’ horses and load up the dead and wounded on their backs. The others would have to walk. Brock nodded his approval. He whistled for Troy, and the red horse soon came through the woods into the clearing. Sabrina went to the horse automatically. She held onto its reins to tether it as well as help support herself. She had eaten nothing since morning and the lack of food, amongst all else, left her feeling out of sorts. Brock had not said a word to her about her deception and that scared her. She did not know him well enough to gauge his true feelings. Sabrina guessed that the silence would only continue while they were with the others. She thought about her reward poster that he had seen. Would he turn her in?

  Brock sighed. He had Thomas ride ahead back to the train to alert them of the capture. The Pinkerton detectives should be there by now and he wanted to pass the men off to them. He did not have an adequate place to keep so many men. He was getting a headache. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he thought about his other problem.

  Will was a girl, no, a woman from the looks of things. He had always thought of himself as being extra sharp and tuned in to his surroundings; how in the hell could he have missed that? The boy, err girl lived with him for Pete’s sake! He should have known. Thinking back to the day they were cleaning drapes he remembered her sparkling green eyes and lilting laughter. He never remembered seeing Will’s eyes before that; he always had his hat pulled down low over his face. Groaning as the pieces came together in his mind, he forced himself to pay attention to the work at hand.

  He double-checked the bindings of the men who would be walking and he intentionally took the rear to keep an eye on the troop. Will would ride with him. He wondered about her real name. With her hand injured she would have had trouble controlling a horse even if they did have one to spare. Plus, he did not want to let her out of his sight until they had a little chat.

  As the others headed out, he turned back to Troy and Will. She was talking quietly to his horse. Troy’s ears were perked up, intent on every word and Brock sighed. Apparently, Troy had known her secret all along.

  “You’re riding with me,” Brock said in his most authoritative voice.

  Sabrina looked up at him and nodded. She was relieved when he mounted first and then pulled her up behind him. Well, she was relieved at first. Brock nudged Troy with his knees and, used to being in front, the horse moved quickly to catch up with the others. To keep from falling off, her arms automatically encircled Brock’s lean waist.

  Brock swallowed as the warm lithe body pressed against his back. He looked down at the small hands holding onto his waist and frowned as he noticed fresh blood seeping through the bandage. The cut was deep and he was concerned about whether she’d have full use of her hand after it healed. He needed to get her back home so he could sew the wound closed.

  He relived the terror he felt when the man had used Will as a shield. He was very surprised and impressed by the boy’s, no… the girl’s bold move. He had a hard time accepting the realization that it was not a boy but a woman who, not only pulled off the neat move, but also took out one of the outlaws with a single shot.

  He had not had much luck with women. Most of the women in his past had their own agenda to fill. He learned quickly to not be taken in by a pretty face or simpering smile. In fact he did his best to stay away from them whenever possible. This had not usually been too difficult, given the scarcity of women in the West. Now he had one right underneath his nose. How could he have been so blind?

  Sabrina was not feeling well. Her hand hurt like the dickens. She could feel the wetness against her skin and she knew she was still bleeding. She felt lightheaded and the swaying horse did not help matters. To steady herself she laid her head against the coolness of Brock’s leather vest and closed her eyes.

  Brock felt her body pressed against his and gritted his teeth as he tried to concentrate on his surroundings. Yes, they had captured eight men and he hoped that was the full count.

  In alarm he felt the girl slump against his back and he felt her arms loosen around his waist. He grabbed onto her wrists so that she wouldn’t slide off as he brought Troy to a stop. Pivoting around he grasped her waist pulling her onto his lap sideways.

  She was pale and her eyes fluttered open wearily. He sat her up and pulled out his canteen to force her to drink. Sabrina took a couple of swallows. Feeling her stomach heave, she pushed it away. She did not want to get sick on Troy.

  Brock gazed down at her with concern. “You need to drink,” he insisted.
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  She shook her head no, which made her even dizzier. “I haven’t eaten much since yesterday; I’m just a bit dizzy. I’ll be okay.”

  Brock growled at her stupidity and reached into his saddlebag with his free arm. Pulling out some beef jerky, he held out a small piece to her. As she opened her mouth to refuse the food, he pushed it between her teeth.

  “You don’t have to swallow; it’s salty which will help with the blood loss. Just chew it.”

  Sabrina did as she was told, for once, and was surprised when she did feel a little better. He gave her another sip of water as she continued to chew on the meat. It did help her churning stomach. Brock situated her in front of him, this time with her legs now straddling the saddle as he set Troy once again in motion.

  They caught up to the slow moving caravan a short time later. Sabrina was reclining, using Brock’s strength to support her. Brock heard a commotion from the front; Thomas had returned with the train personnel. He moved Troy forward and, explaining quickly to the detectives, he turned over the prisoners and the payroll that was discovered in two of the saddlebags. He instructed Thomas to wait and collect the reward money and distribute it amongst the posse. He then left for home to care for the girl.

  Chapter 12

  Sabrina awoke with her hand throbbing even more, if that was possible. She was surprised to see that it was evening. The sky was dark outside the window and she wondered how long she had slept. Her mind was fuzzy. The last thing she remembered was Brock helping her onto Troy.

  Thinking of Brock she looked around, finding him sitting in a chair near the bed. It suddenly dawned on her that she was lying on his bed. She was glad it was too dark to see her blush. She wondered if she could make it up to her bunk in the loft and attempted to sit up. The room swam and she collapsed back down on the bed. Brock was at her side in an instant.

  “Don’t try to get up.”

  He sure was bossy, Sabrina thought, as he again made her drink. Taking a few sips of water with Brock’s help, she used her good hand to hold her head still since the room seemed to be spinning. Holding her head that way helped hide her face from Brock. It was awkward to say the least; she had no idea what to say so she stayed quiet.