by Bobbi Smith
Crystal screamed at his attack. She didn't know how close Brent was, but she hoped he might be able to hear her.
"You can yell all you want, but there's nobody around who cares." He chuckled. The power he had over her made him feel invincible. Heat settled in his loins. He groped Crystal as she twisted and bucked beneath him.
"No! Let me go!"
He paid her no mind. He was intent only on his own pleasure, his own need. Reaching down, he pulled up her skirt and tore at her underclothes.
Crystal was kicking at him as best she could, but her efforts did little to deter him. She could see her purse on the floor, but it was too far away to reach. She would never be able to get to it in time to get her derringer. His hands upon her were viler than anything she'd ever known. Tears blurred her vision as she continued her struggle to save herself.
Brent!
She needed him desperately. He had saved her before. Surely Brent would save her again.
But Hall kept on with his attack, ripping her clothing, fondling her.
Crystal was shocked when suddenly he released her hands. Any thought that she was being freed vanished when she saw that he had let her go only so he could unbuckle his gun belt and free himself from his pants.
"You can't do this! I'm pregnant!" Terror seized her at the thought of what was to come.
She had to save herself? But how?!
Hall only laughed again at her fear as he tossed his gun belt aside and opened his pants. "And whose little bastard are you having?"
In a frenzy, Crystal attacked. She clawed at his already scarred face, drawing blood.
He let out a scream of pain as he stopped what he'd been doing and drew back to hit her again.
Crystal saw her chance. His gun belt was within reach, and she grabbed for it.
The sound of a gunshot split the quiet of the afternoon.
Brent and Hank were riding in when they heard it.
"Crystal!"
Instant terror pounded through Brent. It couldn't be... Not again...
"Dear God! No!" The words were torn from him as he spurred Storm to a full gallop and charged toward the cabin, leaving Hank to follow.
Memories haunted Brent as he raced on. Was Crystal all right? Would he reach her in time? He hadn't been able to save his mother. Could he save Crystal?
Brent drew his gun, ready for trouble. He was furious with himself for having allowed Crystal to go on alone. He should have stayed with her.
Brent didn't think about the possibility of any danger to himself as he rode up to the cabin. He was thinking only of Crystal.
Brent threw himself from Storm as he reined in and then made a run for the front door.
Hall had been stunned when Crystal made the grab for his gun. He thought he'd beaten her enough that she wouldn't fight him anymore, but he'd been wrong. As she'd tried to take aim at him, he'd knocked the gun from her grasp and then slapped her again as fury raged within him. Now he grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a violent shake.
It was then that Hall heard the riders coming in.
"It's Brent!" Crystal cried out in joy. He had come for her! She began to fight Hall even harder.
He snarled in outrage. Keeping a tight hold on her, he dragged her along as he tried to get his gun.
"Brent!" Crystal kept struggling, wanting to stop Hall from reaching the gun, but he was too strong for her.
Hall's hand closed on the weapon just as Brent reached the porch and kicked in the door. Hall stood, holding Crystal as best he could as he tried to take aim.
Brent charged inside the cabin, gun in hand. Driven by fear and desperation, he was going to save Crystal or die trying.
Brent had feared he would find Hall standing over Crystal's body. He had feared he would face the same horror he'd discovered ten years ago. He had feared he would be too late.
As he came through the door, the sight of Crystal alive and fighting fiercely to free herself gave him hope.
Hall realized he was caught in a deadly situation. He shoved Crystal away from him as he lifted his gun to shoot Brent.
But Brent reacted first. He got off a shot at Hall the instant he knew Crystal was out of the line of fire.
The bullet took Hall squarely in the chest, and the force of it flung him backward. He crashed to the floor and lay still.
Crystal had been frozen in place for a moment. Then she gave a small cry as she got to her feet and ran to Brent.
"I knew you'd come! I knew you would!"
Brent took her in his arms and held her close. He could feel how fiercely she was trembling.
"It's all right now. He's never going to hurt you again," he declared.
"Are you two all right?" Hank asked as he came running inside, his gun in hand.
"Yes. It was Hall. I got him," Brent answered quietly.
Drawing Crystal with him, Brent went outside on the porch. When he gazed down at her and saw her bruised face, he hated Hall even more.
"He hurt you." He lifted one hand to gently touch her cheek, where a bruise was beginning to discolor her pale complexion.
Crystal saw the rage within him and sought to calm him. "I'm only bruised."
"Thank God I reached you in time." Brent drew her back into the circle of his arms and leaned down to kiss her ever so tenderly.
Brent found he was trembling, too, from the force of all his turbulent emotions. His violent rage had been replaced now by an incredible sense of relief. He held Crystal to his heart, knowing he never wanted to let her go.
She was his life-his love.
One week later
Brent stood silently over his mother's grave for a long moment, then bent down and laid the single blossom he'd brought with him next to her tombstone.
"I saved Crystal," Brent said quietly. "I got to her in time, and I saved her."
A sense of peace stole over him as he stood back up.
"Brent?"
He hadn't heard anyone approaching, but when he turned, Crystal and Abby were coming toward him.
"I had a feeling you might be here," Abby said. "Frances said to tell you dinner is almost ready."
"All right." Brent had been working at the main house that day, and Crystal had driven over to visit Abby. They had decided to stay on for dinner. It wasn't easy for him to be around his pa, but he wanted to spend some time with Abby.
"So this is your mother's grave." Crystal paused, staring down at the tombstone. "I wish I'd known her."
"I wish you had, too. You would have loved her," he said.
"I'm sure I would have. She must have been wonderful. She raised you and Abby," she told them both with a smile.
"And Quince and Matt," Abby said as they left the grave site and made their way back to the house. "I'm starting to get worried about them."
"You shouldn't, especially where Quince is concerned. He can take care of himself," Brent said. His tone turned cold as he spoke of his brother. "He'll show up here when he's good and ready, and not a minute before. As for Matt, it's anyone's guess whether he'll come home."
"You're right," Abby agreed.
Brent was about to tell his sister that Quince didn't care about anyone but himself, but he didn't. She'd have to figure their brother out on her own.
They reached the house, and Abby went in ahead of them.
Brent and Crystal had just started to go inside when Crystal suddenly stopped.
"Oh," she said, startled. She put a hand on her stomach as she looked at Brent.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" Brent was instantly concerned.
Crystal stood still for a moment longer, a look of wonder on her face. "No. No, there's nothing wrong. In fact, I think everything is very right. I just felt the baby move."
"You did?" Brent was stunned.
"Yes."
Brent stood, gazing down at Crystal. He had come so close to losing her that he now cherished every minute they had together. "I love you, Crystal."
"And I love you."
>
He kissed her sweetly before they started to follow Abby into the house.
Brent paused at the door and looked back out across the ranch. The sun was sinking lower in the western sky, bathing the lush land in a golden glow.
For the moment, he could forget the cloud hanging over the Half-Moon-his father's venture back into debt. From this vantage, the land looked like paradise, and Brent knew that as long as he had Crystal by his side, it would be heaven.
Edmund dismounted in front of the secluded cabin. It was late, but he didn't care. He had business to take care of. As he drew near, the door to the cabin opened and a disreputable-looking man came out, gun in hand.
"Oh, it's you." The man lowered his gun when he saw that it was Edmund.
"Yes, Kane, it's me," Edmund said with a confident smile. He had been there many times before to see this man and knew what to expect. Kane was a loner, a man without principles, but he was also both efficient and dependable about accomplishing any job he was hired to do-for the right price. And Edmund always paid him handsomely.
"Come on in."
Kane led the way inside. Edmund followed him, but didn't say anything until the other man had closed the door behind them.
"Here." He handed him an envelope.
Kane opened it to check the contents.
"Don't worry; your money's all there."
He ignored him and started to count out the bills.
"I said-"
"I heard you." Kane looked up at him and smiled coldly. "But your reputation as an honest man doesn't impress me, Edmund. I know better."
Edmund fought to conceal his irritation. As filthy and arrogant as Kane was, he had still proven invaluable to him in the past, and he'd be even more valuable in the future. Forcing himself to remember that, Edmund said, "You did a good job handling things at the Sullivan ranch."
"Rustling is my specialty," Kane answered with a grin.
"I've already foreclosed and sold off the property to someone else, so you won't need to do anything more there until I let you know. In the meantime, I have another job for you."
"Good." Kane looked at him with interest.
Edmund knew this man loved his work. He continued, "You've done work on the Half-Moon Ranch before, but things have changed since Jack Hunter returned from prison. You're going to have to be careful. Do you think you can handle it?"
Kane's expression was contemptuous. "What do you think?"
"Don't get cocky with me, Kane. I can't afford any mistakes."
"Just tell me what you want me to do."
Edmund paused, then smiled coldly. Yes, Kane would do anything for a price.
Edmund started to speak.
A short time later, Edmund rode back to Diablo. He was satisfied with the outcome of his meeting with Kane. Things were going his way.
An image of Beth Hunter flashed in his mind, and his satisfaction faded. It had been ten years since Beth had died, but his rage was still as powerful as ever.
Edmund knew he had Jack in the palm of his hand. He had set his plans into motion, and he was confident everything would fall into place. But no matter how successful his scheme was, he could never possess Beth.
It was Jack's fault Beth was dead. It was Jack's fault that he had never known her intimate touch. It was Jack's fault that he would never hear her admit she had made a mistake when she'd refused him. It was Jack's fault that he would never hear Beth plead for his forgiveness.
Edmund's expression grew resolute. Jack was responsible for the one great failure in his life, and for that, he would pay.
For that, all the Hunters would pay-all of them.
He would see to it.
After working as a department manager for FamousBarr, and briefly as a clerk at a bookstore, Bobbi Smith gave up on career security and began writing. She sold her first book to Zebra in 1982. Since then, Bobbi has written over twenty books and several short stories. To date, there are more than three million of her novels in print. Awarded the prestigious Romantic Times Storyteller of the Year Award, her books have appeared on several bestseller lists. When she's not working on her novels, she is frequently appearing as a guest speaker for Romantic Writers Association conferences. The mother of two boys, Bobbi resides in St. Charles, Missouri, with her husband.