He dropped down on a knee, then lowered himself on top of her between the bench seats, his weight pressing her into the floor. His hands moved everywhere over her even as she fought back. Wriggling from beneath him, she was able to pull herself up and out, but to her disadvantage. Grabbing a handful of hair, he smacked her skull against the side of the carriage.
When she came to, she was slow to remember where she was or what was happening to her. She felt someone moving over her, between her legs. She looked down and saw her gown was ripped open, one breast exposed to a groping hand. Her legs were being pushed wide apart.
All at once the horses came to an abrupt halt, the door flew open behind William’s back and his evil weight was lifted from her. Her eyes still a bit blurry, she vaguely saw William being tossed from the carriage and to the ground.
“You!” she heard William shout.
“Yes, you bastard. I came for what’s mine.”
She recognized the voice, but was afraid to hope.
Pulling herself up, she held a hand to her tattered dress. “Grant!” she whispered when she saw his large form fill the doorway, then reach to her. She took his hand and he helped her to her feet, then lifted her carefully from the carriage.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw a gun glint in the bright sunlight. “William!” His name was a scream on her lips. Grant placed her on the ground and spun to face William faster than she could take a breath.
William had a gun pointed directly at them. It had been hiding in his suit jacket, although she didn’t remember feeling the hard metal pressed against her when William had been crushing her to the floor of the carriage.
Grant used his arm to position her behind him, as if she would need protection his body would offer. “You’ve had something that belongs to me. Under lock and key,” Grant said, as he held up a shiny brass key in his hand for all to see. “I’ve come to collect what’s mine.”
”I’m not letting you take away what I rightly deserve. I want the Atwater money. All of it,” William hissed, crazed from years of obsession. Waving the gun in Grant’s direction, “You messed everything up. All of it was to be mine. I can still kill you and make it all mine.”
Grant shook his head in denial. “No, you won’t. Killing me won’t solve anything. I went to my lawyer before I came here and rewrote my will. Upon my death, all my worldly possessions now go to my brother, to manage as guardian until my first child reaches the age of eighteen. If, and I say if, I die before that child is conceived, then my brother receives it all.”
William was reddening in anger as he heard Grant’s words.
“So, if you shoot me now, Margaret will not only be a pauper, but the only thing she will have in common with Atwater Ironworks is in name.”
”How do I know you’re not bluffing?” William’s cool façade was cracking. She had never seen him so angry before, and was concerned his rage might drive him to shoot them anyway.
”William, put the gun down. Please,” she begged. “It’s over. There’s nothing you can do.”
“You’re right, it is over,” William said calmly. Strangely enough, the fury was gone from him and an eerie calm took over. William slowly backed away from the couple, then disappeared around the back of the stage. The clattering of hooves on the cobblestone street thundered louder and louder as a team pulling a load of lumber approached, shaking William’s carriage and startling his horses. Before the driver could halt his team, William had stepped in front and was hit, crushed beneath the many legs and wheels of the vehicle.
She screamed, knowing William’s demise. Grant held her back, preventing her from seeing the carnage she could only imagine. A crowd began to form around the body and a whistle pierced the air, signaling the police.
“It’s going to be all right,” Grant whispered.
At long last, she was able to focus on Grant and the fact that he was alive. “I thought you were dead. How did you get away?” she asked into his shirtfront. Tears of joy streamed down her face and collected in the soft fabric.
“You underestimate me, love.”
“How did you find me?” She looked into his eyes, searching for answers.
“Even though your wedding was a small affair, it was the tidbit of gossip working its way around the city.”
“I’m married!” she said, horrified.
He smiled. “I know.”
Shaking her head, she continued, “I’m married to William.”
He lifted her chin with his finger so their eyes met, held. “No, you’re married to me.”
Her body fit perfectly in his firm grasp, her head placed against his solid chest. She closed her eyes and let her senses reel. He dropped his head to the top of hers to place whisper kisses, and she reveled in their closeness.
“Grant, I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry. I just can’t seem to get close enough. You didn’t think I’d come for you?”
“I thought you were dead.” Tears returned to her eyes, but she smiled.
“When I arrived in town, the police had a difficult time believing I was alive as well, but after a bit of persuasion, they helped me capture the evil bastard. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Are you all right?” She knew she looked awful, her hair was in complete disarray, her dress ripped and filthy.
She nodded a bit stiffly. “You came for me, that’s all that matters,” Margaret said softly as she raised her lips to meet his. The kiss was the sweetest they shared, full of longing and tenderness.
“You’re my wife. You’re mine and I’m not about to share you with anyone else,” he said. The statement wasn’t made harshly, but as a matter of fact, and reaffirmed his possessiveness.
“I don’t want to be shared.”
He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “I love you, Maggie. I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you in Croft’s, gaudy red dress and all.” Margaret felt her cheeks flush as she thought back to that first day.
“A little part of me died when you left. I can’t take that kind of pain anymore,” he said.
He wiped a tear that escaped her lashes. Brushing his knuckle along her cheek, he smiled down at her.
Sniffling and smiling through silly tears, Margaret replied, “I love you, too.”
“I’ve waited so long to hear those words again. That’s all that matters. Nothing else is important. I only want you.”
“Sir, I'd say he won't be bothering you anymore,” one of the police officers told Grant.
“Good, thank you for your assistance. We’ve got a train to catch.”
***
“Worried about riding another stage?” Grant asked Maggie two weeks later as they moved across the prairie toward home.
She shook her head as she smiled at him.
He smiled too, pulling his wife in closer to his side, not wanting to ever let her go. Since he’d found her, he’d kept her within reaching distance, laying his hands upon her anytime he wished. And he had, at every possible chance. “I am sorry your stage was held up and those men took you like they did.”
“I’m not.”
Grant, surprised, pulled her up so she sat across his lap, straddling him so he could look her in the eye. His hands fit comfortably and perfectly on her hips. “You’re not?”
“No. If it hadn’t happened, I never would have met you.” She leaned in and brushed her lips over his. “Is it true you willed all of my money over to Tom?”
“Yes, but I only did it as a formality. Tom didn’t want it, but if something had happened to me, he didn’t want any of your inheritance to get anywhere near Hunt.”
“That was a good plan.” She caressed his cheek.
“You don’t mind?”
“I told you I don’t care about the money. Truly, I don’t. I think it was a very smart idea.”
“We can do two things now about my will.”
“And what are they?”
She squeezed her thighs against his hips to keep her balance in the swaying s
tage, distracting him from the conversation at hand.
“We can rewrite Tom out of the will, or we can have a baby that would take his place.”
As she brushed the hard line of his jaw, her gaze flew to his. Her hand froze in place. “You want to have a baby?”
“No, I want you to have a baby. Our baby. Does that sound all right to you?”
A tear rolled down her cheek. Nodding her head, she replied, “Yes, oh yes.”
He pulled her into a hug, filled with tremendous joy. He loosened his hold and found her ankles peeking out of the bottom of her skirt, tucked up around her legs. His hands brushed up past her knees, seeking the warm flesh above the garters of her stockings.
“You want to start now?” she asked, surprised. She quickly gave herself over to the brushing of his thumbs on her thighs, her head tilting back.
“There’s no time like the present.” He quickly switched their positions, with him on top and Maggie pressed firmly into the seat cushion by his length. Lulled by the sway of the stage, they gave themselves over to the love they shared.
“You don’t want to wait until we get home?”
After achingly tender moments, he slid into his wife. Kissing her softly as he moved inside of her, he replied, “I already am.”
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The Lady and the Lawman Page 24