Renegade's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  Brand smiled slightly. "Why didn't he come with you? I'm his prisoner."

  "He was tired." Hancock's eyes narrowed as he watched and waited for Brand's next move. "He said he'd speak to you in the morning."

  Had it been anyone but Hancock saying these things to him, Brand might have believed him. But this was Hancock, the very man who had framed him for the murder. Why would he suddenly be so sympathetic to him and want to see him freed?

  "If it's all the same to you, colonel, I think I'll just stay here until the sheriff comes by tomorrow," Brand said easily, stepping back and sitting down on the cot.

  Hancock was ready to explode. He wanted the son of a bitch out of that cell! His plan was perfect. All he had to do was get Brand to step through that door and then he was going to shoot him point-blank in the back and claim he was trying to escape. It was perfect. All he needed was for Brand to walk out of there, and the man was refusing!

  "You don't understand, Brand. You are free to go. There's no reason for you to stay here. Everyone knows you didn't kill Hale."

  "But if I didn't do it, colonel, who did?" Brand countered, deliberately taunting him.

  Hancock knew then that Brand suspected he had other plans for him than giving him his freedom. "You filthy Indian scum . . . Get out of that cell!" His hand hovered over his revolver.

  "If you want me dead, colonel, you're going to have to come into this cell and kill me here. And I won't make it easy for you."

  Sheri had taken a bath and had gone to bed, but she couldn't sleep. All she could think of was Brand locked up, all alone in that guardhouse. Having slept in his arms these last nights, she missed him and wanted to be with him. Her solitary bed held no appeal.

  She thought about just sitting up all night, but realized that was ridiculous. They were at the fort and they were safe. There was no reason why she couldn't take a walk out to the guardhouse to see how Brand was doing. She'd heard them say that they had put a round-the-clock guard on him, so she would be in no danger at all. Slipping out of the gown that Cecelia had lent her, she got dressed and quietly crept from her quarters.

  Sheri made her way to the guardhouse without incident. When she reached the building, she was surprised to find there was no guard posted outside and the door was standing ajar. It puzzled her, but she thought she'd find the guard inside with Brand when she walked in. Instead, she found terror. . . .

  Hancock had heard someone coming and had prepared for the worst. He'd drawn his gun and was ready to claim that he'd caught Brand trying to break out. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with Sheri.

  "You!" he roared in mindless fury, grabbing her in a bruising grip.

  Sheri had no time to call for help as he wrapped a choking arm around her neck and pinned her helplessly against him.

  Brand was on his feet in an instant. He had heard someone coming, too, but had never suspected it was Sheri. "Let her go, Hancock!" he said in a steely, threatening voice.

  Hancock gave a maniacal laugh. "Oh, no. I'm not about to let her go. This is the moment I've been waiting for for years. I've got you where I want you now, you murdering bastard!"

  "Whatever hatred you have for me has nothing to do with Sheri," Brand said in a flat tone as he tried to plan his next move. He could not, would not, see her hurt because of him. "Let her go, and I'll do whatever you want."

  "It's too late!" he declared, his eyes glowing with power. He could make Brand grovel now before he killed him! The thought was exhilarating. "You ruined my dreams when you married my daughter and you destroyed my life when you killed her!"

  "I didn't kill Becky," Brand answered, pain searing him at the vicious words.

  "You killed her as plainly as if you'd stabbed her yourself! And now I'm going to kill you! But first I think I'll let Miss St. John here have a taste of what Becky suffered."

  "Don't do this, Hancock. Sheri has nothing to do with what's between you and me. Sheri's an innocent in all this."

  "An innocent? So was my Becky when you took her away from me! You forced her to marry you! You forced her to leave me! And then you left her all alone out in the wilderness to be sliced to pieces by your own people!" Hancock was crazed as he snarled at the man he'd hated with an undying passion for all these years.

  "Walk out of the cell, Brand, or so help me, I'll shoot her right now while you're watching."

  Brand knew from the look on Hancock's face that he would do exactly what he'd said. "All right. I'll do whatever you want. Just let Sheri go."

  "Do you think I'm that big a fool?" Hancock sneered. "She's mine, just as you are, right now. Start moving."

  "What do you think Becky would say about you right now, colonel? Don't you think she'd be ashamed of you and what you've become?"

  Hancock's expression turned even more deranged. "How dare you even bring up my daughter? You aren't fit to speak her name!"

  Brand was suddenly afraid the man was going to go completely crazy. He looked at Sheri and saw tears in her eyes. He glanced around, searching for some way to help her, some weapon he could use to free her, but there was nothing close at hand. He was helpless.

  "Move faster! I don't like that look in your eyes.

  You try anythinganything at alland she's dead."

  Sheri couldn't stop herself from trembling, and Hancock laughed, feeling invincible.

  "She's real scared, so you'd better not make any sudden moves if you want to keep her alive."

  Sheri knew she had to do something. There was no way in the world that she was going to let Hancock shoot Brand down in cold blood just because he was holding her hostage. She knew from what had transpired in the mountains that he would put her life and well-being ahead of his own.

  Hancock pressured her to take a step forward as Brand cautiously began to emerge from the cell. Brand was watching the man's every move, waiting for the opportunity to attack him. He would let no harm come to Sheri. He loved her, and just the sight of Hancock's hands on her infuriated him. He looked at Sheri and his eyes met hers. He saw the terror in the depths of her gaze, along with her love, and it tore at him. He would save her, no matter what.

  Hancock positioned himself close to the open cell door, but out of Brand's reach. He wanted a clear shot at Brand's back as he walked out of the cell.

  "Where do you want me to go?" Brand asked.

  "Toward the front of the building," he instructed. "I caught your woman here trying to break you out of jail again, and that's when I shot you. You were obviously running again because you knew you were guilty and were afraid you were going to hang."

  "What's going to happen to Sheri after you kill me?" Brand asked tightly, taking one step outside the cell to face his mortal enemy. "How will you get her to go along with your story?"

  "If she wants to stay alive, she'll go along with my story. Otherwise, I'll just have to shoot her, too, and claim she was helping you run." He tightened his hold on her throat.

  It was in that minute that Sheri could stand no more. She knew little about fighting, but she did know that if she could jar her captor and make him turn her loose, she might be able to knock the gun away. With all the force she could muster, she suddenly jammed her elbow into his stomach as she tried to jerk herself free. Brand saw her move and dove toward Hancock.

  Sheri's attack stunned Hancock. He had never expected her to fight back. At her sudden movement, he fired. He wanted Brand dead . . . and then he would kill her.

  Philip had been deeply disturbed by his conversation with Colonel Hancock. The man was obviously hiding something. He had talked to Sheriff Warren, and first thing in the morning the sheriff was going to ride back into town and have a long talk with Miss Loretta. Philip had a feeling that in another day Brand would be a free man again.

  He had never thought that he would come to like and admire Brand, but he admitted to himself now that he did. Brand had proven himself to be brave and honest. He was a rare man, indeed, and Philip felt honored to know him. Brand had suffered a lot i
n his life, and it was time that something went right for him. Philip was going to make sure it did.

  Leaving his quarters, Philip went to stand outside and enjoy a breath of fresh night air. It was then that he saw Sheri heading toward the guardhouse across the parade ground some distance away. He understood her need to see Brand, and he decided to follow her to make sure everything was all right.

  He moved at a leisurely pace, in no hurry after the long days in the saddle. It felt good just to be back at McDowell.

  It was then, as he watched Sheri enter the guardhouse, that he heard the colonel's voice boom "You!" Philip was startled and wondered what the colonel was doing there. He looked around quickly for the private who was supposed to be on guard. When he saw no sign of him, he knew something was wrong.

  Philip drew his sidearm and approached the guardhouse cautiously, listening, trying to hear what was going on inside. The voices came to him indistinctly at first, but as he got closer he could make out what they were saying.

  "What's going to happen to Sheri after you kill me?"

  "If she wants to stay alive, she'll go along with my story. Otherwise, I'll just have to shoot her, too, and claim she was helping you run."

  "Lieutenant? Is something wrong?" A corporal saw him lurking there in the shadows and came up behind him.

  Philip jumped, startled by the interruption. In a low voice, he quickly instructed, "There's trouble in the guardhouse. Keep quiet and go get Captain Whitmore right now! Be quick about it." He had informed the captain earlier that evening of all that had transpired with Colonel Hancock and he wanted him there, too.

  "Yes, sir!" the enlisted man said as he rushed off to do as he'd been ordered.

  His gun held at the ready, Philip moved forward to position himself at the front door. He knew timing would be everything in this. If he waited too long to make a move, Brand and Sheri might end up dead. He took a deep breath, girding himself for what was to come. Then he made his move. Philip burst through the door, just as Sheri tried to break free and Hancock fired.

  Brand has moved the instant Sheri had tried to break free. As the gunshot exploded, arousing the whole fort, he threw himself bodily at the colonel, tackling him and throwing him to the ground. As they crashed to the floor, locked in a savage struggle, Philip came charging through the door with his gun drawn.

  "Hold it right there!" Philip shouted.

  "Shoot him, lieutenant!" Hancock ordered as he continued to struggle with Brand, refusing to let him go. "He was trying to escape! She was helping him! Shoot them! Shoot them both!"

  "Brand, Sheriget up and move away from him!" Philip told them.

  Brand and Hancock broke apart. Brand rushed to Sheri to make sure she was all right, while Hancock quickly stood and reached for his weapon where it lay on the floor. He thought the lieutenant was there to help him.

  "Don't touch that gun, colonel."

  "What?" Hancock looked up at Philip in shock.

  "You heard me. Just stay right where you are. Brand, Sheri, are you all right?"

  "We're fine."

  "Good. Take a look outside and see if Captain Whitmore's coming. I think we have a few things to tell our new commander."

  "What are you talking about?" Hancock demanded, assuming his usual confident demeanor. "I'm the commanding officer here."

  "Not anymore. Not after what I just overheard."

  "You're crazy. You didn't hear anything," the colonel scoffed arrogantly.

  "I heard you threaten to kill two people in cold blood. Is that how you killed Hale, too? I want you relieved of duty and thrown in this guardhouse!"

  "What is it, lieutenant?" Captain Whitmore appeared behind him in the doorway and was startled to see that the lieutenant had his gun on the colonel. "What's happened?"

  "I was coming to the guardhouse to check on things, when I heard Colonel Hancock telling Brand to walk out of the jail cell so he could shoot him in the back and tell everyone that he'd caught him breaking out. He was planning on shooting Miss St. John, too."

  Whitmore looked at Hancock. "Sir, you are under arrest for attempted murder. Lieutenant, lock him up."

  The sheriff had heard the commotion and had come running. "What happened?"

  "I'd like your permission to release Brand, Sheriff Warren. I believe Colonel Hancock is the man you're looking for in connection with the death of Marcus Hale."

  "Absolutely," the sheriff agreed. "Brand, you're free to go."

  Sheri was so happy, she threw herself into Brand's arms. He hugged her close, unable to believe that it was really over.

  The sheriff's pronouncement sent Hancock over the edge. As Long came toward him, he let out a scream of pure rage and dove for his gun. Snatching it up, he began firing blindly in Brand's direction. If he was going to die, then Brand was going to be waiting for him in hell!

  Whitmore and Long both fired at him at the same time, and Hancock collapsed, dead, on the guardhouse floor. They ran to his side, kicking away the gun that he'd dropped and checking to make sure he was dead. They were both speechless with the horror of what had just happened. Only after their quick examination did they look up. They stared in torment at the vision of Brand clasping Sheri's limp form in his arms; blood was dripping from a wound in her head.

  "Dear God, man, let's get her to the hospital!" Philip said, rushing to help him.

  Philip ran ahead and alerted the doctor, then helped prepare a bed for her in a private area, away from the men who'd been brought in with the posse.

  Brand came in after him, carrying Sheri as if she were his most precious treasure.

  "Over here, Brand!" Philip called.

  Brand hurried to where the doctor was waiting and laid her gently on the bed before him.

  "You two go wait outside. I'll call you as soon as I know something."

  "I'm staying," Brand declared.

  But the doctor needed to work without interruption. He looked at Philip, who urged Brand to go with him.

  "He needs to do his work, Brand. He'll call us in as soon as he's through. Come with me. I'll stay with you."

  Brand took one last look at his love, and then reluctantly went with Philip. O'Toole had heard all the ruckus and had tracked Brand down to find out what was going on.

  ''I saw Captain Whitmore. He said you were here with Sherithat she was shot. What happened, boy?" His gaze searched Brand's pain-filled face for answers.

  "I thought it was over. She was hugging me. . . ." His iron control, so fierce for so long, shattered. "Hancock shot her while I was holding her. . . ."

  "Is she going to make it?" O'Toole pressed.

  "I don't know . . ." Brand lifted his tortured gaze toward the hospital and wondered what was happening within.

  "What are they doing with Hancock?" O'Toole was ready to take care of the colonel himself.

  "I shot him. He's dead," Philip admitted with deep regret. Unfortunately, there had been no other way. He, too, was staring back toward the building, wondering if Sheri was going to live, wishing he'd moved sooner . . . faster . . .

  "Good," O'Toole declared with conviction. "I'm glad he's dead. He deserved killing."

  O'Toole stayed with the two men, trying to keep them talking to distract them and help the time to pass, but neither Brand nor Philip wanted to talk. All they wanted was word of Sheri's condition.

  Nearly an hour passed and no word came. Things were tense and quiet within the building. Then, finally, the doctor emerged.

  Brand was there instantly. He felt certain that Sheri had died and that it was all his faultjust as it had been with Becky. Sheri had even been in his arms, and he had been unable to protect her. He waited for the doctor's announcement, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw locked in a rugged fight for control. "How is she?"

  The silence that followed only lasted a second, but to Brand it seemed an eternity.

  "She's going to be fine," the doctor said.

  Brand could only stare at him. The news was so wonderful that he
couldn't believe it. "She is?"

  "The bullet just grazed her. She was unconscious for a while, but she's awake now. She's going to have a terrible headache for a day or two, but she should recover fully."

  Brand stood unmoving, his jaw working furiously to control the emotions that were churning within him. Sheri was going to live . . . Sheri was going to live . . . He drew a ragged breath and tried to ignore the tears that burned in his eyes.

  "Thank you." He started to turn away.

  "Where are you going, Brand? She asked specifically to see you."

  He stopped and squared his shoulders. He took one glance at O'Toole, who smiled at him, and then started after the doctor.

  Philip stood with O'Toole, smiling, too. "Thank God she's all right. She is one special woman."

  "That she is, and she's got herself one special man."

  The two shared a look of camaraderie and moved off into the night together.

  Brand walked quietly into Sheri's room. She was deathly pale, and there was a white bandage on her forehead. Her eyes were closed and he took a moment just to watch her. It wasn't often that he prayed, but he did now, thanking God that her life had been spared. After a long, silent moment, he was tempted to leave. He didn't want to disturb her if she was resting, but it was almost as if she sensed his thoughts. Her eyes opened and she managed a weak smile.

  "Brand . . ." She said his name softly. It took all her strength to lift her hand to him.

  He was by her side in an instant, clasping her hand in his, feeling how delicate and fragile she was.

  "I love you, Brand," she whispered.

  He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. He bowed his head, averting his gaze, so she couldn't see that the possibility of losing her had nearly destroyed him. He drew a shuddering breath.

  He realized after a moment that she was still. He looked up, suddenly worried, only to find that she'd drifted off. Even in slumber, though, her face was turned toward him and her smile was softly serene.