by Caroline Lee
But that wouldn’t matter until Verrick arrived, and the last she’d seen, he was heading for the ranch. She was stuck waiting until he followed the tracks back towards town, and who knew how long that would be? It was up to her to keep her sister safe until then.
Ironically, it was something Baker had said which gave her the idea she needed.
“Take me instead,” she blurted.
Shannon drew herself up at the same time Baker let loose a harsh bark of laughter. “Why in the hell would I want you when I’ve got her? Her husband’s paying Verrick to protect her, an’ I’m gonna show the world he’s a failure.”
“Because…” She took a deep breath before she lied straight to Baker’s face. “Because I’m Verrick’s woman.”
“Cora, no,” Shannon whispered, and Cora glanced over to see her sister’s eyes shining with horror.
She managed a little smile. “I promised it’ll be alright.”
Shannon just shook her head, looking stronger than she had a moment before, and Cora took a deep breath. Turning back to Baker, she saw him run his tongue over his lips in a thoroughly disgusting manner.
“Verrick’s woman, eh?”
Cora steeled herself and nodded, willing to say anything she could to convince Baker to let her sister go. “Imagine how much more it would hurt him to lose the woman he loves to you.”
Woman he loves.
Even as she said it, she winced internally, knowing no one could believe Verrick capable of love. For the longest time, she’d believed him capable of it, but now? Now it hardly mattered, did it?
Baker squinted, his hand still on the butt of the revolver. “You’re saying I let her go, and you’ll head on upstairs with me?”
Cora closed her eyes briefly, remembering the feel of Verrick’s hands on her body.
Had it only been last night? Yes, the sun was sinking in the west, and they’d ridden hard all day. It really had only been yesterday evening she’d taken her heart in her hands and convinced Verrick to make love to her. It really had been only that morning he’d opened up and shared so much about his past with her.
It really had been only an hour ago he’d accused her of dulling his instincts and causing this calamity.
She took a deep breath and nodded, still not able to look Baker in the eyes. She’d go upstairs with him, and she’d do whatever he wanted, if it meant Shannon would be safe. And if, while he was touching her, she closed her eyes and held on to the beautiful memory of her time with Verrick…
Well, then, maybe she could get through this.
It was as if her agreement sparked Baker into motion. He tightened his hold on Shannon and shoved her aside. Cora lunged, trying to keep her arms around her sister, but Shannon stumbled to the side, looking terrified and sick, but less pale than she had when they’d ridden up.
“Come here,” Baker growled, yanking Cora up against him.
Her arm was burning from his grip, her knees were weak—either from fear or relief now that Shannon was safe—and Cora sagged against him, trying not to smell his ripe sweat and dirt. His erection pressed against her hip as he twisted her around and nudged her towards the saloon, and she had to swallow down bile once more.
Still, she dug in her heels and caught her sister’s eye. “Blake is with the doctor.”
She saw relief, then guilt, flash in Shannon’s blue eyes, probably as she realized she hadn’t thought about the foreman’s injury.
“Go to him,” Cora spoke slowly and calmly. “Ask Doc Vickers or his daughter to send someone to the ranch.”
She prayed her sister would understand what she was asking. Whatever was about to happen, Baker wouldn’t stop until Verrick arrived. It was a slim chance, but Cora was praying Verrick would show up in time to stop Baker from—from—
She shuddered, refusing to cry. This was her decision. She’d made it, and she’d submit to whatever was necessary, knowing Shannon would be safe.
But as she watched over her shoulder as her sister stumbled towards Baker’s horse, Cora whispered a prayer. “Please.”
Please get here in time, Verrick. Even if I mean nothing to you, please don’t let me down.
Chapter Nine
The trail intersected with the road back to town just a mile or so from where Verrick had crossed the road, and run into Blake, an hour ago. He didn’t think Baker had beaten him; he’d probably looped around while Verrick was on his way to the ranch, but it still rankled.
After sending Cora with Blake, Verrick had raced towards Sunset Valley. There, he’d found the place where Blake had been shot and signs of a struggle inside. It looked as if Blake had attempted to defend Shannon, but with him bleeding in the yard, Baker had just strolled in and grabbed Shannon while she was preparing the evening meal.
Verrick had examined all this evidence clinically, refusing to allow himself to picture Shannon—who’d always been kind to him—terrified and hurt. Thankfully, he found no blood sign other than Blake's, so he was confident Shannon hadn't been seriously hurt
Yet.
And even though he wasn’t a praying man, Verrick found himself thanking God Lucas hadn’t been here. Lucas would probably be devastated he hadn’t been here to protect Shannon, but Verrick knew Baker would’ve killed his son on sight. Of course, Baker didn’t know Lucas was his son, so the only thing Verrick could figure was Baker was targeting Shannon and Lucas as Verrick’s clients.
He’d been hired to protect them, as far as anyone else knew, and with him stupid enough to leave the ranch, Baker had been able to walk in and do whatever he liked.
Verrick frowned as he forced himself to carefully follow the trail. It seemed obvious Baker—whose horse was clearly carrying double—was heading for Black Aces, but Verrick wouldn’t allow himself to race headlong into danger. Besides, it was possible the gunslinger was leaving a trail this clear because he wanted Verrick to follow.
Baker had been manipulating him since that first telegram.
If only he hadn’t taken the bait! If only he hadn’t left Sunset Valley. Had he been alone, he might’ve realized his mistake earlier and turned back to protect Shannon and Lucas. But he hadn’t been alone; he’d been busy being distracted by an intriguing woman who made him feel—
No.
The only way he was going to get through this encounter and retrieve Shannon without her being hurt, was if he could push all thoughts of Cora aside. He refused to think of the joy he’d found in the way she looked at the landscape, or as she questioned and applied what she’d learned. He couldn’t think of the way she’d felt in his arms last night, or in his lap only that morning as he’d unburdened his past.
And he most definitely could not think of the way she’d looked at him just an hour ago, on this very road, when he’d blamed her for distracting him.
She had distracted him, but he’d allowed it. He’d enjoyed her distraction, and thus was culpable in the circumstances which allowed Baker to hurt Blake and take Shannon. And once he rescued Shannon and killed Baker, he would find a way to explain that to Cora.
Cora.
Dammit. He was doing it again; losing focus.
Calm. Focus.
Only it was impossible to detach himself now. Now, he was riding after Baker to save Shannon, a woman who’d come to mean something to him, and not just because his son loved her. She was his daughter-in-law, yes, but she was also his friend. And she was Cora’s sister, and the two of them loved one another, despite their differences.
He wasn’t riding after Shannon to rescue her because she was a client. He was doing it because she was Shannon. She was carrying his grandchild, and God willing, he’d be part of that grandchild’s life.
And if he would be a part of that baby’s life, then he’d be part of Cora’s life too.
Focus.
He couldn’t very well blame her presence for distracting him from what mattered these last few days, if just the very thought of her could distract him now. The thought of her expression when he ess
entially told her this was all her fault…
Focus. Detach.
He forced himself to study Baker’s trail, a difficult task with all the other tracks on the road. Baker had headed away from the ranch to the west, then looped south to join up with the road towards the town. Why? To avoid pursuit, even if he’d known the only other men at the ranch were up on the north range and couldn’t possibly know what had happened? Or because Baker had been afraid Verrick would follow?
If that was the case, why head for town? Why not take Shannon elsewhere to do whatever he had in mind? Baker must be after an audience.
Verrick swallowed and kicked his horse into a canter, his eyes skipping ahead to keep the trail in sight.
He heard the oncoming horse before he saw it, and slowed his own animal. He considered removing himself from the road completely, but the only cover wasn’t convenient, and he was in a hurry. So he pulled his Colt and waited.
The other horse was moving fast, and it was large. That was all he could tell until it crested the little hill, and he lowered his weapon. The rider was a woman, and unless he was mistaken…
He kicked his horse into motion, holstered the Colt, and raced towards Shannon. When he reached her, they both reined in at the same time, and he surprised himself by reaching out to drag her into his arms.
So much for detachment.
With his face buried against her hair, and her arms around his waist, Verrick admitted the truth to himself:
When it came to family—his family—there was no way in hell he could remain detached. This woman was part of his life now, and the relief he felt knowing she was safe was indescribable.
Never in his life had he allowed himself to be relieved when something went well. He’d forced down those emotions, and he didn’t like they were now allowed free reign.
What had being with Cora done to him?
It had shot his careful control all to shit, that was for sure.
He allowed himself one more breath, then carefully pushed Shannon away from him, settling her back on her own horse before either animal could shy away. Unless he was mistaken, her animal was the one he’d been following. How had she ended up with Baker’s horse?
Holding her at arm’s length, he allowed his eyes to roam over her, checking for damage. There was a large bruise forming on her cheekbone, and he frowned slightly when he saw it.
An obviously forced breath of laughter escaped her lips and she lifted her fingertips to brush against the bruise. “Surely I don’t look all that bad?”
Considering the fact he’d found the places Baker had let her down to vomit, Verrick had been expecting much worse, truthfully. The bruise would heal, and it appeared the baby was safe for now. However, Shannon had been the first one to tease him about not having a sense of humor. So…
“Worse.”
“What?” She blinked.
He nodded solemnly. “You look worse than all that.”
She smiled. It was a sickly smile, and the right side of her mouth didn’t pull up as far as the left, but it was worth it.
But then she gasped, and dropped her hand to her lips. Her eyes went wide and she whispered, “Cora.”
And just like that, Verrick knew true terror.
“Tell me,” he commanded harshly.
Shannon took a deep breath, and he watched her knuckles whiten around the reins. She straightened her shoulders and met his eyes.
“Baker took me into town, near the saloon. He said he was going to—going to—” Her breathing quickened, and she began to shake slightly. “Upstairs, in the saloon, the rooms. He was planning on—”
“I understand,” Verrick cut her off.
“But before he could take me inside, Cora found us. She confronted Baker and—and—and—” Her expression crumpled. “She held me. She told me everything was going to be alright.”
Verrick’s heart pounded at the thought of her confronting Baker. What had the fool woman done?
He needed only to look at Shannon, to see how distressed she was, to know what Cora had done. She’d seen her sister in danger and saved her.
“How did she manage it?” He dreaded the answer.
Shannon swallowed. “She offered herself in my place. Baker only wanted to—to use me to hurt you, because he thinks Lucas hired you. But Cora said she was your woman, and it would hurt you more if he took her instead. She told me to go to Doc Vickers’ to check on Blake, but I knew I had to come find you. You’ll save her, won’t you?” Shannon pleaded.
For a man who’d spent a lifetime not feeling, there were far too many reactions to Shannon’s story. Terror, that Cora had put herself in danger. Pride, that she’d thought of a plan and was clever enough to make it work. And a fierce sort of joy that she considered herself his woman, even though he’d never given her any indication he felt that way.
Still, in that moment, Verrick knew the truth: Cora was his woman, no matter how she’d screwed up his life, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
“Thank you,” he took the time to say to Shannon, before nodding and kicking his horse into a gallop. He heard her call his name once before he was too far away to hear anything else, and he hoped she’d be smart enough to follow. At least in town, there’d be others around to protect her from whatever dangers lurked while he confronted Baker.
The man had carried a grudge for years and had taken what was Verrick’s.
Now he would pay.
Black Aces was a typical little frontier town, and as such, the Three Queens Saloon was right at the intersection of the two main streets. It was rumored that the poker game which had given the town its name had happened at one of the back tables, but Verrick knew that wasn’t true. For now though, he didn’t have time for any of the men gathered to enjoy the evening, no matter how much whiskey was already flowing.
The door was propped open to catch the autumn breeze, and he stepped inside, forcing himself to slow down and search for any potential threats. Around the saloon, conversations stopped and men shifted nervously as they met his gaze, then looked away.
Calm. Detach. Focus.
The reminder didn’t help. Baker was upstairs right now with Cora, and Verrick was her only hope.
He frowned slightly and headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Behind him, someone began to say something, but was hurriedly cut off. Verrick allowed himself to ignore it.
The staircase was plain, but upstairs was carpeted in red, with white-and-gold wallpaper. Verrick hadn’t been up here before; he hadn’t had the urge to find a whore since coming to Sunset Valley. There were five doors off each side of the hall, and he had no way of knowing which one held Baker.
A scantily clad woman opened the third door on the right, and Verrick only narrowly managed to rein in the impulse to draw. When she saw him, she gave a little shriek, her eyes going wide.
Well, if Baker hadn’t known Verrick was there before, he did now.
“Where’s Baker?” he growled at the woman as he stalked closer, not caring if he was frightening her.
She was a young thing, younger than Shannon, and thin enough Verrick could’ve broken her with one hand. Still, she lifted one shaking arm and pointed to the last door on the left, not saying a word.
He stared at her a moment, trying to judge if she was in Baker’s employ, and part of a trap. No, she was too frightened, both of him and of Baker, if he was any judge. She wrapped her arm around her middle and seemed to shrink into herself, as if afraid of his reaction.
So he nodded his appreciation, then took a deep breath as he approached the door she’d indicated.
He hesitated with his hand on the door handle, not wanting to give Baker any further advanced warning, but not ready to rush in yet. His right hand dropped to the grip of his big Colt Army Revolver and he turned the handle.
Right as he pushed the door open, he saw Shannon reach the top of the stairs out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t afford the distraction, so he dismissed the fear
in her expression. He was committed now.
The door opened.
Focus.
Focus.
Everything around him went fuzzy and grey, except the two people standing between him and the window. Focus.
Time slowed, each heartbeat lasting hours, as his brain processed what needed to be done.
Thump.
Cora was pressed against the wall near the window, the red curtain crushed in one clenched fist beside her. Her head was turned away, her eyes shut, her face red.
Thump.
The shirt she’d put on that morning after climbing out of Verrick’s lap was gaping open, red marks already forming. One of Baker’s hands was wrapped around her bare breast, his fingers kneading the delicate skin.
Thump.
Baker’s face was buried in her neck, and a whiskey bottle dangled from his other hand.
Thump.
Tears streamed down Cora's face. Baker was making her cry. Baker was touching her.
Thump.
She was his, and in that moment, Verrick’s careful control snapped.
Focus be damned. Detachment be damned. He was feeling anything but calm.
Thump.
Time sped up again, and the door continued its swing open.
“Baker!” he bellowed, and was gratified to see the man jerk away from Cora and turn towards the door.
And Verrick, who’d refused to draw his gun in anger, felt a rage like he’d never felt before.
The Colt revolver cleared leather before Baker had a chance to focus on him.
Verrick, who prided himself on meeting men in fair fights, in knowing every man he’d killed had been trying to kill him, shot Two-Grins Baker through the chest.
Thump.
Baker slammed sideways against the wall, and by the time his body hit the ground, it was most definitely that; a body.
Cora whimpered, and Verrick jerked at the sound, then stepped into the room. All told, only a few seconds must’ve passed since he first touched the door handle, but everything—everything—had changed.
