The Rescue

by Tanya Eavenson

  A light flashed in a rider’s hand. A glint of sunlight off a pistol?

  No. Just as he’d feared.

  Shots sounded in the distance.

  Blake ran for his horse. His fingers clinched the reins, and he leapt onto the saddle. Quickly he formulated a plan, and at this moment, anything would be better than letting those in the stage be taken. Or worse, killed. Blake rode hard toward the scene as more shots were fired.

  Amid the dust, the driver of the stage lifted a rifle and fired back. The rider with a blue bandana jumped from his horse onto the driver’s box. The two men fought, struggling to keep their balance as the horses pulled the coach off the road. When the driver fell to the ground, the other rider, still on his horse and with a red bandana covering most of his face, snatched the loose reins and brought the team to a halt.

  Lord, help me keep a cool head and save these people. He pulled back a bit and slowed.

  The man on the horse pointed his gun at Blake’s chest as he approached. The other man on the stagecoach glared at him. His blue bandana had slipped to his neck, and Blake memorized the man’s face. Crooked nose. Dark hair. Mole on the left side of his cheek.

  Blake tipped his hat at the two. Their clothes were dirty and torn, but their guns, Smith & Wesson double-action, clean. He’d seen revolvers like these only twice before. Thankfully, he was wearing one on his hip. “Heard the shots. Thought you might need some help.”

  The man with the blue bandana secured his disguise. “I’m afraid your rescue attempt was in vain, mister. We ain’t tryin’ to help anyone but ourselves.”

  “Stealin’ is more like it.”

  A hearty laugh came from the other robber. He kept his gun trained on Blake’s chest.

  Blake glanced at the stagecoach’s door. If these men were the robbers who kidnapped women and children and sold them to brothels, he needed to do something and fast. He grunted and nodded at the stagecoach. “Take all you want. I’m here lookin’ for a woman. When I saw you both comin’ in after the stage, I knew this was my opportunity.”

  The man with the gun gawked. “Are you kiddin’ me? Do you believe this, brother?”

  Blake climbed off his horse.

  Hard, dark eyes peered at him over the blue bandana. The robber had yet to jump down from the stage, and Blake strolled toward him like he had all the time on this side of heaven. Hopefully he did. “Let me take a look-see if there’s a bride in here for me.” He craned his neck to see inside the carriage.

  Eyes the color of a raging storm glared back, brows knitted together. “Don’t you dare touch me, or you’ll regret it with your life,” the woman asserted.

  Blake blinked twice. Great. He had a fighter on his hands. That’s all he needed. “I’m in luck. I got me one fine filly in here.” He turned back to the men.

  “Brother, I thought you said there were no passengers?” The one on the horse glared. “Ain’t that a woman's voice?”

  The other threw the strongbox down with a thump. “He’s lyin’.” He jumped and landed a few feet from Blake. “Pull her out. I wanna see her.”

  The man on the horse chuckled, causing the gun still pointed at Blake’s chest to shake. “If there’s more, we could have a little fun.”

  So they knew this stage was carrying a strongbox, but not about the woman? Maybe Blake had a chance to save this from going bad.

  A feminine but curt voice called out, “I’m not now, nor will I ever be his woman.”

  “She’s the only one.” Blake did as he was told, praying this woman wouldn’t get him shot. He swung the door wide and waited, but no movement came. He’d apologize later, but he needed to play the part. Their lives depended on it.

  Blake reached in and grabbed her wrist, then pulled her out the stage’s door and yanked her to her feet. Brown hair like silk fell across her smooth cheeks. “You know what’s expected. Do as you’re told.”

  Sparks of lighting seemed to shoot from her eyes straight at him. He opened his mouth to speak and she spat into his face.

  Red Bandana pointed his gun and snickered. “Well, I’ll be. Look at who we have here.”

  Blake spun around, slipping a gun from his pocket and pointing it. Blue Bandana stepped toward them, and Blake growled, “She’s mine. If you plan to die today, then take another step.”

  Something solid jammed between Blake’s shoulder blades. “Are you hard of hearing? I am not now, nor will I ever be yours.”

  Heat flowed through his veins. Here he was, trying to save this woman, and look where it got him. A gun in the back.

  “Well, what a nice turn of events.” The man with the red bandana chuckled. “C’mon, Brother, we got what we came for. She ain’t worth it.”

  The man with the blue bandana set his sights on the woman yet again. When his gaze intensified, Blake was tempted to turn around to see why, but he held his stance. The robber took a step back, lifted the strong box, heaved it onto the horse, then swung into the saddle. With a wink for the woman, he unhitched the horses from the stage and shot into the air. The horses jolted into a full gallop, herding Blake’s horse along with them.

  Blake ground his teeth. It took all the patience he could muster to wait for the men to leave, especially the one with the blue bandana who lingered in the distance. He had to get his horse back, but first he’d have to deal with the metal digging into his flesh. “Put down your gun.”

  She hooted. “Not on your life.”

  “You’re leaving me no choice.”

  “And if you move so much as an inch, I can promise it will be your last.”

  Time for a new strategy. “I must warn you, if you shoot me, you’ll be hung for killing a sheriff.”

  She laughed again, distrust tainting her voice, threatening him all the while, but Blake had no choice. He wasn’t ready to die today. He shifted his body weight to one side and caught a glimpse of her arm. He’d wait for the right moment.

  “You’re no lawman. Let me see your badge.”

  Of course, when he needed his badge, he didn’t have it. If his deputy could see him now, Blake would never be able to live this down. “It’s in my desk drawer. At the sheriff’s office.”

  “Your first mistake, mister. A sheriff never forgets his badge. I’ve seen men like y—”

  Blake twisted, grabbed her wrist, and yanked the gun from her as she flew past. She spun mid-flight and fell to the ground on her backside. He opened the revolver and dumped the bullets into his palm. “I’m sorry, but ...” He looked down.

  Those dark eyes sent daggers his way yet again, and he was sure one stabbed him in the heart. Never had he seen a woman with such fire, such ... beauty. She jumped up, balled her fists, and held them up as if she planned to fight him.

  He couldn’t help laughing. No. Never had he seen a woman like her. “Ma’am, you have two choices. Ride back to town with me or walk, but I have a feeling I know which choice you’ll take. However, if those men return, you won’t be so lucky.”

  “Ride? On what horse?”

  He drew his lips together, loosing a shrill whistle for Legend to return if he was still in earshot. “I need to look for the driver. You stay here.” He pocketed the bullets and slid her revolver into the belt of his pants.

  With that, her hands fell to her sides.

  He walked toward the area where the driver had fallen.

  “What’s your name?” A softer, gentler voice sounded from behind him.

  He didn’t turn around. “Blake.”

  “Is that it? Just Blake?”

  He couldn’t understand this woman. One minute she was trying to kill him, and the next she acted like she cared. “Why do you want to know? To write it on my headstone?”

  Legend trotted to him and stood like a soldier, waiting for his command. Blake ran his hand down his mane, collected the reins, and then continued his search for the driver.

  “No. When I get to Graham, I’m going to find out who you really are.”

  “Blake McKenny.” He spo
tted a crumpled body ahead. Dropping the reins, he ran to him and felt for a pulse. Weak. But at least there was one. He looked over his shoulder to find the woman holding his horse’s reins. “He’s alive but needs a doctor. I’ve got to get both of you to town.” He rose to his feet. At least the man was alive and his horse had returned.

  She climbed into his saddle, moving the horse farther from him. “I’ll head into town and let the doctor know where to find you. It’ll be quicker.” She guided the horse into a canter, leaving him standing there.

  Blake exhaled. Surely this woman would drive any man insane. Especially him. He had to get help, but there was no way he’d leave her alone with what had happened here or what he learned in Fort Worth. The idea of her riding off unaccompanied into dangerous country wasn’t an option.

  He allowed the woman her lead as he dragged the driver to partial shade under a mesquite tree, then drew his lips together and whistled. His horse circled and trotted straight for him. He didn’t mask his smirk as she approached, or when one of her hands fisted as his horse stopped directly in front of him, or when he took the reins and climbed behind her.

  It was the moment he realized how perfectly she fit against his chest that his smirk fell.

  Jessica’s blood boiled. Who did this man think he was, bossing her around like he did? If it wasn’t for the driver needing help, she’d have the mind to ... what? She was trapped, pressed against this strange man’s chest, and every time she tried to break their contact, the movement of the horse brought her right back.

  She glanced around at nothing but flat, destitute land as far as she could see. “How much farther?” She tossed the question over her shoulder, praying it wasn’t much longer before she could be rid of him. He grated on her last nerve. But what choice did she have? Trust the men who were robbing the stage? No. She’d rather take her chances with this man—one who hadn’t made any physical advances, although wedding bells seemed to be ringing in his brain, a loose bolt she’d fix once she got to town and found the sheriff. She’d see who this Blake really was. A bank robber, for all she knew. He’d be easy to describe with a scar that left bare lines running through his trimmed beard.

  “Look ahead.”

  Jessica squinted against the blinding sun. A haze outlined several buildings. At least she thought they were buildings. It wasn’t even July, but the heat played mind games with her vision.

  She licked her lips. If she’d been smart, she’d have grabbed her hat and canteen from the stagecoach before trying to escape. Impetuous, her father had called her on more than one occasion, and now look where it had gotten her—all her belongings still in the stagecoach and her mouth bone dry.

  Once again she leaned forward, anxious to escape her captor’s presence. “Can’t we ride any faster?”

  “Suit yourself.” Blake spurred the horse forward, and her back slammed against his hard chest. His arm came around her waist.

  Her breath caught. She tried to struggle out of his embrace, but he only held her tighter.

  “Let go of me!”

  “We’re almost there.”

  Her body tensed and her breath became labored as they galloped into town and collected curious stares. She’d felt this way only once before, and terror caught in her throat. She fought against the memories of a man’s hands on her waist as a knife dug into her flesh.

  Blake halted his horse and swung off before she had time to blink, then ran into the building directly in front of her.

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and she prayed to swallow the vile taste on her tongue. She gasped for air and squinted against the midday sun, craning her neck to read the metal sign above the door. Doc Adams.

  Blake exited the office and another man rushed out gripping a black medical bag. Blake said something to him that she couldn’t hear.

  The doctor, she presumed, came her way, tipping his hat as he rushed past.

  She followed his movements and noted the length of his stride, still able to feel Blake’s presence at her side. “He’s the doctor? He looks about ... my age.” With no response, she turned to Blake who stood there gazing at her. Questions seemed to run through his eyes. She hadn’t noticed, until now, how blue they were, like the sky on a clear day.

  He grabbed his horse’s reins, breaking the trance. “He’s new to town. And how old are you?”

  She shook out of her thoughts and stood in the stirrups to dismount. “It’s none of your concern.” Strong hands took hold of her waist and lowered her to level ground. She was taken aback by his nearness and the pure size of him. He was a giant standing next to her, but she wasn’t some helpless female. She’d have gotten off his horse without him. Jessica opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind.

  “Will you be all right?”

  She stopped, surprised by his words. The genuine look of concern on his face made her feel vulnerable. She hated it. Running her hands down her dress, she righted herself as much as possible and wished once again she had her hat. She fisted her hands to her side, then clasped them together. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I need to find the sheriff and tell him how you stole my pistol, and how you’re trying to marry me against my will.”

  The softness of Blake’s eyes hardened, and his jaw clenched. He pulled her pistol from his belt and handed it to her. Before she had the metal securely within her grasp, he brushed past her, climbed into the saddle, and mumbled something under his breath. “If I wasn’t ...” He yanked the reins hard in the opposite direction and rode off.

  If he wasn’t ... what? One of the robbers? He wouldn’t pin this on her. It was the life he chose, and there were consequences. Father always said everyone had a choice to do right or do wrong, and if you choose to go against the law, the law would find you.

  She glanced around in search of the sheriff’s office. What else could she tell the sheriff about the robbers? What had one of them said? Come, Brother, we’ve got what we came for. She ain’t worth it. Her throat tightened at the memory, which led to another of the life she left behind in Oklahoma. Her hand flew to her neck. No, it wasn’t Cliff’s gang. It couldn’t be them. Although she hadn’t clearly seen the robber with Blake standing like a towering wall in front of her, but the other, the one with the red bandana covering his face, she hadn’t recognized him. Surely it wasn’t them.

  Hoof beats broke into her thoughts as several men galloped out of town. With a deep breath, Jessica walked across the street, steeling her trembling hands at her sides. What she needed was a room at the boardinghouse while she stayed in town, not haunting memories.

  She strolled past the seamstress shop before entering the livery, which also resembled a smithy. Two young boys ran in, came to an abrupt halt, and clapped their knees with their palms, panting for breath.

  “I won.”

  “No. I did.”

  The tension in her body began to ease as she smiled at them, aged about eight or nine. “I’d say a tie.”

  The boys turned their mud-smeared faces to her. The one with dark hair shook his head, flinging sand in all directions. The reddish-haired one simply stared before saying, “Ma’am, ye sure? Me da said who ever won dinna be muckin’ the stalls tonight.”

  “Oh, I see.” She peered around the livery, her eyes adjusting to the difference in light. On the left, Blake’s horse waited, tied up along one of the stalls. She’d know it anywhere. Her father taught her well.

  A fire smoldered several yards away on her right. “It seems your dad is the liveryman but also the blacksmith. It’d take one person a long time to clean it by themselves, but if they had help, it’d take half the work, which meant more time for fun.”

  The dark-haired boy drew in a breath. “Nay, I can have fun all by meself.” He reached over and smacked his brother on the shoulder. “You’re it!” He took off running. His brother followed.

  “Nice try, lass.” A burly man the size of a mountain came out from the shadows. As he neared, a disabling limp to his right leg became apparent. He wip
ed his hands on his overalls. “Dinna pay me boys no mind. What can I do for ye?”

  She straightened to her full height of five feet two inches but was still no match for the Irishman. The hard lines of his face smiled down at her. “I’m looking for a horse.”

  “Right now, I dinna have none to borrow.”

  “I’d like to buy one. That is, if you have any for sale.”

  “Aye, have one that’s comin’ in on the train in a few weeks.”

  “Three weeks?” She’d be stuck here till then? She couldn’t let that happen. Too much time had already been wasted this morning. She had to be out of this town one way or the other.

  “Lass?”

  She took a steady breath and forced a smile. “Yes. I’m terribly sorry. My mind went elsewhere.”

  “There’s a rancher who owns quite a few horses. You could see if he’ll sell ye one, though I doubt it. Maybe if ye spoke to the sheriff—”

  She perked up and clapped her hands together. “Oh, yes, thank you for reminding me. I need to speak with the sheriff. Where is his office?”

  “Two shops down. Across the street from the boardin’ house.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the help.” She strolled out of the livery with purpose now. Who did this Blake think he was? Just wait! She’d knock him down a notch or two.

  From the general store, Jessica could see the boardinghouse and the big, bold letters on the sign across the street: SHERIFF’S OFFICE. Unpleasant thoughts unraveled the nice little bow she tied to keep her emotions intact and hidden from the world, including herself.

  It was the only way to deal with murder.

  About the Author

  Tanya Eavenson is an international bestselling and award-winning inspirational romance author. She enjoys spending time with her husband and their three children. Her favorite pastime is grabbing a cup of coffee, eating chocolate, and reading a good book. You can find her at her website www.tanyaeavenson.com/.