by Connie Mason
She had almost reached the house when she saw it. A brief flicker of light in one of the upstairs rooms. It had disappeared so quickly she might have imagined it, but she trusted her eyesight. Had Fremont lit a cigarette? The flicker of a match would account for what she had seen.
Meg reached the front porch. A quick glance showed a broken railing and caved in front steps. The front door hung open on broken hinges. Meg smiled to herself as she bypassed the steps. Fremont had make it easy for her by not barricading the door. Was he that sure of himself?
Meg stepped through the door. The house was bereft of furnishings and she could see stars through the open spaces in the roof. The stairs loomed ahead of her. Did they squeak? Would they hold her weight? She eased her gun from her holster and placed a foot on the first step. Nothing. So far so good, she thought with relief. She'd been in similar situations many times in the past and relying on surprise had always worked for her. It didn't matter whether she brought Fremont in dead or alive; he deserved his just rewards for raping two innocent women.
The moment she'd learned Fremont had raped two innocent girls, Meg knew she had to bring him to justice. A shudder passed through her. What Arlo had done to her was still a painful memory, one that would remain with her forever.
Her foot landed on another step. A loud creak rent the stillness. Meg froze. Had Fremont heard? Obviously not for he hadn't come charging out to investigate. Just in case, she cocked her weapon and curled her finger around the trigger. She'd never had to kill a man before, but she wouldn't hesitate if she had no other choice.
Meg climbed two more steps, pausing after each one to listen. The waiting silence was deafening. Darkness closed in around her and her heart began pounding so hard she feared Fremont could hear it from where he had hidden himself. The next step was missing. She drew in a steadying breath and stretched her leg up to bypass it.
Finally she reached the top, pausing on the landing to get her bearings. There were two doors, both slightly ajar, leading off the narrow corridor in front of her. Instinct told her that Fremont was holed up in one of the rooms, quite possibly asleep. Meg blessed the full moon. Tonight it was her ally, for once she pushed the door fully open, moonlight pouring through the broken windows would illuminate both the room and Fremont.
Cautiously she moved toward the first door and placed her hand on the knob. She held her breath as she pushed the door wide and stepped inside. Only a very slight squeak gave away her presence. The exhaled sharply when the room proved to be empty. Meg whirled around and contemplated the other room. Then a floorboard creaked beneath her foot.
She inhaled and let her breath out slowly when Fremont's head didn't pop out of the room. Slowly she eased back the door and squeezed through the narrow opening. Crouching low, she swung her gun in a wide arc, holding it steady with both hands. The room was empty! Had she been mistaken? Had the light she'd seen been a figment of her imagination?
Suddenly the door slammed against her, knocking her off balance. A man stepped out from behind it.
"I've been waiting for you," a smooth as silk voice said moments before his fist connected with her jaw. Then everything went black.
Meg awakened slowly. Her jaw was on fire and her head felt like it had been split open. A light flared somewhere on the other side of her closed eyelids. Her eyes fluttered. A booted toe nudged her none too gently in the ribs.
"Wake up."
Meg groaned. She'd done it again. How could she have been so careless? Luck was surely against her.
A face floated into view. It wasn't a bad face, as faces went, except for the cruel glint in his cold, colorless eyes, and the harsh lines around his flattened lips and bared teeth.
"I've heard about you," Fremont sneered. "You're Meg Lincoln, that crazy lady bounty hunter."
"How did you..."
The words died in her throat when she saw his pale eyes slide down her body. She glanced down at herself, gasping in dismay when she saw that he had unbuttoned her shirt and untied the strings of her camisole, exposing her breasts. But that wasn't all. He had tied her arms behind her with her own rope.
"Bastard!" she hissed. "What gave me away? How did you know I was here?"
"That creaking floorboard. I never even heard you climb the stairs. I hid behind the door and waited for you. Of course I didn't know you were a female. Not until I clipped you on the jaw and your hat fell off. I knew immediately all that beautiful black hair had to belong to a woman. You must be either mad or desperate to get into this kind of work."
Meg gave him a defiant glare. "What are you going to do now? I'm not the only bounty hunter after your hide. Sooner or later you'll be brought to justice."
"I'm hoping not at all," Fremont gloated. "But I have plans for you, pretty lady. Indeed I do."
He stared at her long legs encased in tight trousers and rubbed his chin. "Those britches you're wearing might present a problem, but nothing I can't handle. I'll cut them off if I have to. For a whore, you're a damn toothsome little piece, Meg Lincoln. A woman who takes up a man's profession can't be respectable. How many men have you spread your legs for?"
A red haze formed behind Meg's eyes. "Raping me will only add another nail in your coffin."
He gave her an oily smile. "Women usually give me what I want. Why should you be any different? If you're good, I might let you live."
"What about that poor girl in Denver? She didn't live."
"She should have cooperated and given me what I wanted."
He dropped to his knees beside her and fondled her breasts. "That's the best pair of tits I've seen in a long time. Don't fight me and I'll make this good for you. Most women like what I do to them. Please me and you'll live to brag about what a good lover I am."
He unbuckled her gunbelt and fumbled with the fastenings on her trousers. Meg bucked wildly. This couldn't be happening. Everything she'd suffered as Arlo's victim came back to haunt her. If he raped her he might as well kill her for she'd never be the same.
Fremont caught her thrashing legs and sat on them as he worked her trousers over her hips and down her legs. When they were down around her ankles, he yanked off her boots and pulled the trousers all the way off, tossing them aside. With a flick of his wrist he pulled her shirt apart and ripped her camisole down the center. Then he sat back on his haunches, his eyes glittering as he stared at her.
"You really are something, lady."
He unbuttoned his fly and climbed on top of her. Meg drew back her legs and kicked him in the chest. He landed on his rump, his expression murderous.
He reared up and slapped her. "Try that again and you'll regret it."
Though aware that no one within miles could hear her, Meg opened her mouth and screamed.
"Stop that, bitch!" Fremont roared. "No one is killing you...yet."
Meg didn't stop screaming until he placed a hand over her mouth. She looked up into his twisted features and saw death, her death, in the colorless depths of his eyes. With renewed effort she fought him, kicking and spitting like a wild woman. If she was going to be raped, she wasn't going to make it easy for him.
Darkness slowed Jess's progress as he followed Zach's directions to the old Floyd place. He knew he was near when he heard an earsplitting scream cut through the thick stillness of the night.
Meg! He spurred his horse, until horse and man were literally flying over dangerous terrain. The house suddenly came into view. A decrepit hulk, forlorn and sinister, squatting beneath a full moon. A light shining from a broken window guided him like a beacon. He rode up to the house and sawed on the reins. He was off his horse before it stopped prancing. He leaped over the broken steps, drew and cocked his pistol, and pushed through the door. He heard Meg scream again and took the stairs two at a time.
He followed the light to the open doorway and barged inside. What he saw froze the blood in his veins. Fremont, or the man he supposed was Fremont, was kneeling over Meg. One hand was fondling her breast and the other was clamped over
her mouth. His wet, glistening sex protruded obscenely from his open fly as Meg bucked wildly beneath him. Cursing him every way to Sunday, Jess roared in outrage when he saw that Meg's hands were tied behind her and her body was naked from the waist down.
Fremont whipped around but he didn't have a chance. Jess brought the butt on his gun down hard on Fremont's skull. Fremont moaned once and collapsed. Jess grasped his collar and tossed him aside like a bundle of rags.
Had he hurt Meg? Had he arrived too late? He dropped to his knees and gathered Meg in his arms, crooning softly in her ear. She remained limp and unresponsive.
"Meg. Speak to me. Are you all right? Did the bastard hurt you?"
No response was forthcoming.
"Meg, answer me."
He breathed a sigh of relief when recognition registered in her eyes.
"Jess?"
"Yes, love."
"Fremont...he..."
"He's out like a light. Let me get that rope off your wrists so I can use it to tie him up."
He turned her around and untied the knots, cursing fluently when he saw how tightly Fremont had bound her. "Your hands are going to hurt when blood starts flowing to them again."
Meg moaned as Jess massaged the numbness in her hands. "Fremont...he... Oh, God, it was just like Arlo all over again. I couldn't bear it."
Jess's features hardened. "You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to. I'll help you dress after I've taken care of Fremont," he said. "Afterward, we can talk about this. I'm a doctor, I know how to treat torn flesh and..." He looked away, unable to continue. Who in the hell was Arlo?
Meg merely stared at him. Jess couldn't recall when he'd ever seen her so confused, so utterly lost.
"How did you know to come after me?"
"Zach rode to town after you left and told me what you'd done. He gave me directions to the Floyd place."
Meg closed her eyes as Jess tied up Fremont. Hurtful memories assailed her. She may have been Arlo's wife, but what he had done to her was closer to rape than normal relations between husband and wife.
Jess returned with the lantern and Meg opened her eyes. "I dragged the bastard into the corridor," Jess said. He tried to nudge her legs apart but Meg resisted. "Relax, love, I need to see how badly he hurt you."
Meg shook her head. "He didn't. You arrived in time. He clipped me on the jaw and slapped me, but that's all."
Jess turned her jaw to the light. Meg saw his own jaw tauten and knew the bruise marring her chin couldn't be pretty.
"I ought to kill the bastard," he hissed.
"I'm fine, really. Hand me my clothes."
Jess fetched her trousers and boots. Meg let him help her pull them on.
"We should wait till morning to take Fremont back to town," Jess said.
Meg shook her head in furious denial. "No! If we leave now we can reach town by morning."
"Are you capable of riding? That bruise looks pretty nasty, and you've been badly shaken."
"I'm fine. I want Fremont behind bars, where he won't hurt another woman."
"Very well. I'll drag him downstairs and find his horse. By the way, I didn't see your horse."
"I tethered my mare out of sight in a gully."
Jess started to leave, then he spun around and grasped Meg's shoulders.
"Damn you! I ought to turn your over my knee. I was so damn scared when Zach said you'd gone after Fremont. When I walked in here and saw that bastard on of top you, I nearly had a heart attack."
Then, his anger vented, he pulled her against him, tilted her chin, and kissed her. Hard. With a passion she felt clear down to her toes. Then he was gone, leaving her reeling unsteadily.
Her hands were shaking as she strapped on her guns and pushed her hair under her hat. She waited a moment to pull herself together, then started down the stairs after Jess.
Meg felt a keen jolt of satisfaction when she saw Fremont lying across his saddle, belly down, his hands and feet secured with a rope running beneath the horse's belly.
"I found Fremont's horse out back," Jess said. "I hope he enjoys riding back to town on his belly."
Meg made a wide berth of Fremont's horse. "He's awfully quiet."
Jess sent her a smug smile. "I gagged him. I took exception to what came spewing out of his foul mouth."
Jess mounted and reached out a hand. "Put your foot in the stirrup and I'll give you a lift up."
Meg gave him her hand and he pulled her up. She settled behind him, resting her cheek against his back as her arms circled his waist. Meg stifled a moan. The heat emanating from his hard body scorched her. The bold masculine scent of him, the feel of his hard muscular body against hers, produced emotions that left her raw inside. With difficulty she pushed those feelings aside. Until she learned more about Jess and his past, she couldn't allow her heart to become involved.
They retrieved Meg's horse from where she had left it, and Jess helped her to mount. Then they started back to town.
Chapter Eight
Meg was drooping in the saddle hours later when they reined in at the sheriff's office. Deputy Taylor was just opening the office for the day and appeared more than a little surprised by his unexpected visitors.
He tipped his hat. "Mornin', Miz Lincoln. Doc Gentry." He stared at the bound and gagged man lying face down across the saddle of his horse and thumbed his hat to the back of his head. "I see you brought in a prisoner. Is that who I think it is?"
"It's Fremont," Meg said, dismounting. "He's all yours, deputy."
"Well I'll be. You did it again, Miz Lincoln. He's a bad one, all right. Did he give you any trouble?"
She and Jess exchanged glances. "A little, but I don't want to get into that right now."
Taylor stared pointedly at Meg's bruised face and merely nodded. "I'm expecting Sheriff Bufford on the evening train. He'll be mighty glad to see Fremont behind bars. Come back in a week, I'm sure the reward money will be here by then."
Taylor untied the ropes binding Fremont, dragged him off his horse and prodded him into the jailhouse. Fremont sent a murderous glare at Meg and Jess before he stumbled through the door.
"I should go home and let Zach know I'm all right," Meg said, exhaustion slurring her words.
"Zach is waiting at my office," Jess said. "You're not going anywhere in your condition. Tomorrow is Sunday. Since I don't expect any patients, you can use the spare bedroom. I need to keep an eye on your for a day or two."
"I don't need looking after," Meg argued.
"Maybe not," Jess said, unconvinced. "However I intend to examine you before you leave."
"Really, Jess," Meg said as she raised her foot into the stirrup. But she must have been weaker than she thought for she couldn't quite pull herself into the saddle.
Jess was beside her instantly. He lifted her into the saddle and walked her horse down the street to his office. Zach rushed out the door to meet them.
"Thanks be, you're back!
"Open the door, Zach," Jess said as he lifted Meg from her mare.
Zach hastened to do Jess's bidding. "What's wrong with Meggie? Did you get Fremont?"
"Put me down, Jess. I don't know what got into me," Meg said. "I'm not a weakling."
"You're the strongest woman I know. You've just been through a harrowing ordeal, however, and are understandably distraught. You've also gone the entire night without sleep. No more arguments. You need a good night's rest before I'll allow you to leave."
"Will someone tell me what in the hell happened?" Zach all but shouted. "Is Meggie hurt?"
"I'm not hurt," Meg insisted.
Apparently Zach got a good look at her face for he turned the air blue with his curses. "Did Fremont do that? Where is he? I'll kill the bastard!"
"He's in jail where he belongs," Jess said."Meg hasn't slept in twenty four hours, I'm taking her upstairs and putting her to bed. Take care of the horses, will you, Zach? Come back when you're finished and I'll tell you all about it."
After a la
st glance at Meg, Zach hurried off.
"Really, Jess, I can walk," Meg persisted."
Jess ignored her as he carried her up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. He sat her at the edge of the bed and pulled off her boots.
"What you need right now is sleep. I'm going to tuck you in, then go down and talk to Zach. If you're not sleeping by the time I return I'll dose you with laudanum."
Jess unbuttoned the remaining buttons on her shirt, the ones that Fremont hadn't torn off, and pulled her shirt free. Her camisole was all but destroyed and he quickly removed it, sucking in an angry breath when he saw the livid bruises marring the creamy flesh of her breasts. He muttered something obscene and turned his attention to her trousers.
"I can finish undressing myself," Meg insisted. "I'm not helpless."
"Very well," Jess said gruffly. If he discovered any more bruises on Meg's flesh while he was in a killing mood, he feared he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. Fremont deserved a good thrashing, and the way he felt now he'd fight the deputy to get to Fremont if he had to.
"I'll be up later to check on you."
"Jess," Meg called after him. "Don't tell Zach that Fremont tried to...tried to..."
Jess's mouth tautened. "Get some sleep." Without another word, he strode out the door.
Zach was waiting for him in the parlor. "How is she? How badly did Fremont hurt her?"
"She's bruised and exhausted, which is understandable. I'll know more when I examine her tomorrow. Sleep is what she needs right now."
"Do you know what happened?"
"Meg didn't say much, but I suspect Fremont got the drop on her, knocked her out and tied her up. I got there while he was..." His words fell off, recalling Meg's request.
"While he was what?" demanded Zach. "You might as well tell me all of it, Doc. Did he rape her?"
"Meg said he didn't. I won't know for sure until I examine her. It's entirely possible, given the scene I interrupted when I arrived."
A string of obscenities spewed from Zach's mouth and his fierce expression gave Jess a brief glimpse of the hard man Zach had once been. "I'll kill him! I don't care if he is behind bars. I'll kill him."