by Bobbi Smith
“I’ll bet,” Jack said, frowning at the thought. He knew how drunk Micah had been when he’d left the saloon, and he knew the ugliness of the man’s temper.
A sudden sense of urgency filled Jack and he hurried off toward Amanda’s cabin without saying another word to the stewards. He found Eileen running blindly toward him when he entered the companionway.
“Jack—thank heaven! It’s that man. He pushed his way into our cabin—”
Jack took her by the shoulders and looked down at her, seeing her bloodied lip and the stark look of terror in her eyes. “He hit you?” He was shocked.
“I don’t care about me! He’s alone with Amanda!”
“Go get the stewards,” he ordered, then set her aside and went forward, intent on doing battle.
The look on Jack’s face sent a shiver down Eileen’s spine. She had never seen a man look so deadly or so fiercely determined. She rushed off to find the other men to help him.
Jack didn’t even pause when he reached Amanda’s cabin. With one shove, he threw the door wide. It crashed open, revealing Micah standing over Amanda where she was on the floor, her hair in disarray, her dress tom at the bodice. Micah was still holding her by the arm as he stood over her, his hand raised to strike her.
Jack’s move was lightning-fast as he attacked. He launched himself bodily at Micah and knocked him away from Amanda. The two men rolled heavily across the floor in what little space there was, fighting and struggling for dominance. Amanda scrambled to get out of their way.
“This is the last time you’re going to lay a hand on a woman! You want to fight, fight with someone your own size!” Jack growled as he landed a jarring blow to the other man’s jaw.
Micah continued to battle back. His liquor-laden senses were slow to react, though. While the women had been no match for his brute strength, he could not overpower Jack.
With precise, hard-hitting punches, Jack battered him relentlessly, never giving him a second to regroup or rest. Blood covered Micah’s face, but Jack didn’t care. This man was a coward. He was the lowest type of man around, and Jack wanted to be sure he learned never to lay a hand on a woman in violence again.
“You don’t hurt what is mine!” he snarled as he landed blow after punishing blow.
Determined to beat him into submission, Jack didn’t stop as long as Micah kept fighting back. Only the arrival of the stewards, who ran into the room and pulled the opponents apart, stopped his attack.
Jack was panting and bloodied from the fight as he stood back and let the stewards drag the other man to his feet.
“I want him arrested—locked up. He broke into this cabin and attacked Miss Taylor and her traveling companion, Miss Hammond.”
The stewards looked at the two women and saw their injuries.
“Is that true, Mr. Jennings?” one demanded.
They each had him by an arm, and he was hanging weakly between them.
“No . . . the women invited me. They wanted me in their room,” he lied, his eyes gleaming with malice as he smiled a bloody smile at Amanda.
“Miss Taylor?” The steward looked to her for verification.
“That man pushed his way into the room and attacked first Eileen and then me. Mr. Logan saved our lives by showing up when he did. If it hadn’t been for him, I don’t know what that man would have done to us.” She was trying to speak steadily and coherently, but she was trembling visibly. A bruise was already forming on her cheek, and a small trickle of blood was at the corner of her mouth. Her gown had been ripped, and she was holding it together over her breasts as best she could with shaking hands.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You lying bitch . . . You women are all alike! You’re lying whores, all of you!”
Jack started forward to silence him once and for all, but the steward blocked his way. “We’ll take care of him.”
They started to drag the drunk away, and they were none too gentle in their handling of him.
“Don’t worry, Miss Taylor, Miss Hammond. We’ll make sure he doesn’t cause you any more harm. He’ll be locked up.”
“Thank you,” Amanda said in a voice that was barely audible.
When they left the room, Eileen quickly closed the door behind them and hurried to her side.
“Are you all right?” she asked, seeing how pale Amanda was and knowing how terrible the experience must have been for her.
“I don’t know.” Amanda answered truthfully, and then her knees started to buckle. She had never fainted before in her life, but she did now.
Jack was there. He had seen her distress and made his move the moment she swayed unsteadily on her feet. He swept her up into his arms and made his way to her small chamber. He gazed down at her. Her head lay on his shoulder, and she looked very fragile. Realizing how small and light she was and how very defenseless she’d been against Micah, a surge of protectiveness jolted through him. He wanted to protect her; he wanted to keep her safe from harm. And the desire had nothing to do with being her hired escort.
At the thought of her father and his duty to him, Jack grew angry with himself. He was supposed to keep her safe. He was supposed to make certain that nothing happened to her—and he’d failed. If he hadn’t gotten there when he did, Micah might have killed her. The man had been that out of control. Thank God he’d overheard the stewards talking. There was no knowing what might have happened had he not headed for the cabin right then. He was disgusted with himself.
Jack gently laid Amanda upon her bed. The bodice of her gown fell apart then, and he was treated to a glimpse of pale-hued silken flesh where her breasts swelled above her chemise. He paused, his hands shaking, unable to look away from the beauty of her. But the memory of his failure returned, and he gave himself a fierce rebuke. He quickly drew her coverlet up over her as Eileen followed them into the room. “Is she going to be all right?” she asked worriedly. “I don’t know. I’ll go get the ship’s doctor, just to make sure. Stay with her.”
“I will.” Eileen got a cool, damp cloth and pressed it to Amanda’s forehead.
Jack strode from the cabin, a man with a mission. He returned a short time later with the doctor.
“Amanda’s regained consciousness,” Eileen told them as she let them in.
“I still want Dr. Phillips to examine her,” Jack insisted. “That must have been a hard blow. Have him take a look at your face, too.”
With Eileen to assist him, the doctor disappeared into Amanda’s bedroom and shut the door behind them.
Alone, Jack stood in the outer room and waited. He was relieved that Amanda was awake, but he still wanted to hear from the doctor that she hadn’t been seriously injured. Micah Jennings was a vicious man, and Jack was certain that he’d had every intention of doing her great bodily harm. The minutes that passed seemed to last for an eternity. Finally, the door to Amanda’s room opened, and Dr. Phillips emerged.
“How is she?” he asked immediately.
“She’s shaken, but she’ll be fine.”
“Be fine?” He didn’t like the sound of that.
“There’s some bruising. He managed to strike her twice before you saved her, but nothing’s broken. She’s in no danger. It’s a good thing you got here when you did. You were a hero.”
Jack nodded, but he sure didn’t feel like a hero. The whole thing should never have happened in the first place. He should have realized what Micah Jennings was capable of, and he should have been prepared.
“I told Miss Taylor to stay in bed for the rest of the day. She should be back to normal in no time.”
“Thank you.” Jack showed him from the cabin as Eileen came out to join him.
“Amanda’s feeling much stronger now,” Eileen told him, managing to smile at last. It had been a ghastly few hours.
“Good, and how are you?”
“My cheek is sore, but the doctor says I’m going to live.”
“Is there anything else you need? Would you like me to have some food sent down
for you?”
“That would be wonderful, and you should probably plan on sending breakfast down, too. I doubt either one of us will feel like leaving the cabin for a day or so.”
He looked toward Amanda’s closed door. He wanted to speak with her, but he knew it wouldn’t be proper for him to see her so indisposed.
“Tell Amanda that I’ll make certain Jennings is going to stay locked up until they hand him over to authorities at our next port of call. Ask her, too, if she wants to press charges against him. In the meantime, don’t open this door to anyone but me.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“I’m glad you’re both all right,” he told her, glancing one last time toward the closed bedroom door.
“Thank you for saving us. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” She looked up at him as if he were the most wonderful man alive and on impulse drew him down to her so she could press a soft kiss on his cheek. “Good night.”
Jack was startled by her kindness and actually felt himself blush. “Good night, Miss Hammond.”
“I think, after all we’ve been through that it would be perfectly all right if you started calling me Eileen.”
“Good night, Eileen.” He smiled gently down at her.
He left the stateroom then. He was relieved that things had turned out as well as they had, but he was still furious with himself that the incident had happened at all. Amanda and Eileen had been in his care, and he’d failed to protect them.
It would not happen again.
Jack lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his cabin. Sleep eluded him as images of what might have happened to Amanda haunted him. He muttered a vile curse, wanting Jennings to spend the rest of his days burning in hell, and all but threw himself from the bed.
Jack started to dress. He needed a drink badly. Dan had trusted him to keep his daughter safe, and he hadn’t done it. The thought that he’d failed to recognize the possible danger unnerved him. This was the second time. Had he completely lost his ability to judge character? Not long ago, his judgment had been sharp. As a Ranger, he had been one of the best at instinctively knowing just when and where outlaws would strike. And then had come El Diablo. . . .
At the thought of his weakness for Elizabeth and how blind he’d been to what had been happening in Del Fuego, Jack stalked toward the door. His word to Dan be damned! He was going to have a drink! He reached for the doorknob, then stopped. Raking a hand nervously through his hair, Jack swore again, and this time he cursed himself.
He turned back and sat down heavily in the one chair in the cabin. He stared bleakly around himself. The desire for a drink would not leave him, and neither would the doubts he had about himself. He thought of Amanda, of what a tigress she’d been smashing whiskey bottles when he’d first seen her and how the bar-keep had even been a bit unsure if he could handle her or not. He thought of her true concern for Jennings’s wife and how fiercely she’d tried to help her in spite of the woman’s seeming indifference. He thought, too, of the look of defiance and bravery on her face when he’d charged into the room to save her from the other man. Amanda was a magnificent woman, and Dan should be proud of her. She hadn’t cried when he’d gone to her. In fact, she’d held up very well until the last. . . . The memory of holding her, soft and helpless in his arms, touched something deep within him.
Jack suddenly realized the direction of his thoughts, and he scowled. Amanda Taylor was trouble. She had been since the first minute he’d laid eyes on her. He was taking her home to her daddy, and that was all.
Swearing under his breath again, he leaned back in the chair. He did not close his eyes to court sleep, though. He waited in silence for the coming of the dawn.
* * *
Amanda woke early, before sunup, and lay in bed savoring the quiet of the moment. Her sleep had been fitful. She’d woken several times during the night after dreaming about the attack, but as she faced the new day, she felt strangely rested and at peace.
As she let her thoughts drift, Amanda realized that Jack was the reason she felt so safe. For all that she’d despised him for the way he’d treated her in Philadelphia, she had to admit now that without him, she would have come to serious harm at Jennings’s hands.
Not that she wanted to give Jack any more credit than he was due. He was a man, after all. Had she been armed, she could have handled the drunken wife-beater herself, but Micah Jennings had caught her unprepared, and so she’d been helpless before him.
It greatly irritated Amanda to admit that he’d overpowered her. It didn’t suit her nature to have to rely on anyone. Her father had raised her to be brave and smart, to ride and shoot with the best of the boys. Then she had gone back East and had become an independent woman. She could take care of herself—most of the time.
Amanda got up and went to look out her small porthole. As she watched the sunrise, she vowed then and there that such an incident would never happen to her again. From now on, she would always make sure she could take care of herself. She knew how to use a gun, and when Jack came to see her today, she would ask him to get her one. She never wanted to be helpless again.
* * *
Jack accompanied the waiter who brought breakfast to Amanda’s cabin that morning. He was pleased to find that both women were up and about when they arrived. When the waiter had gone, he turned to Amanda and got his first good look at her injury. His jaw tensed as he stared at her bruised and swollen cheek.
“It must hurt,” he said tightly.
“Not so very much,” she replied, wincing a little as she attempted a smile. “It would have been much worse if you hadn’t arrived when you did. Thank you.”
He was uncomfortable with her praise. She could have been killed while under his protection. “It should never have happened in the first place.”
“I know, and you were right,” she admitted. “If I hadn’t tried to help his wife, he wouldn’t have come after me.”
Jack was pleased that she was finally seeing the error of her ways.
“I can’t help but think how terrible it must have been for his wife Becky, though. He only had time to hit me once before you showed up. He could have beaten her for hours, and there was no one to come to rescue her.”
Jack felt an uncomfortable stirring of conscience at the image of helpless terror her words evoked. “At least she was smart enough to get away from him while she could. I hope she’s long gone, and he’ll never be able to find her.”
“You should have seen the look in his eyes when he was getting ready to hit me the second time.” Amanda shuddered. “He looked insane.”
“Any man who would beat a woman is insane. He’s locked up now, right where he should be, and I’ll make sure that I see him ashore when we get to our next port, day after tomorrow. I spoke with the captain this morning about dealing with the authorities there. Do you want to press charges against Jennings? It would mean that we’d have to leave the ship and stay in town for a time.”
“No, we need to get home to my father. His wife has had time to escape from him, so we’ll just leave it at that.”
“You’re sure? The man hurt you and Miss Hammond—” Anger showed in Jack’s eyes.
“But you saved us, and we’re fine now.”
“All right.” He understood her need to put it all behind her.
“Thank you for all you’ve done, Jack. It’s reassuring to know that you’re watching over me.”
“I intend to keep even closer watch now.”
“Jack, I was wondering . . . Could you get me a gun to carry, just so something like this never happens again?”
“A gun?” He stared at her in disbelief. “What would you do with a gun?”
She gave him a look of disdain. “In case you’ve forgotten, I was raised in West Texas. By the time I was six, my papa had taught me how to shoot.”
“You won’t be needing any sidearm,” he stated flatly. “I’ll be watching you too carefully.”
&n
bsp; “If I’d had a weapon last night, though, I have taken care of Jennings myself and not had to rely on a man for my own well-being.”
Jack felt the sting of her words.
She went on smugly, “An armed woman can be very dangerous, you know.”
Amanda had meant her remark to be light, but Jack’s whole demeanor changed. The look in his eyes turned cold and his jaw tightened.
“I know all about armed women,” he ground out. “And they can be dangerous. But you won’t be getting a gun from me. Nothing more is going to happen to you on the trip home. I guarantee it. And let me ask you one thing, little girl. Do you have any idea what it’s like to take a human life?”
She was taken aback by his unexpected attack.
At her silence, he went on, “I didn’t think so. You haven’t got what it takes.”
Amanda was surprised and angered by his condescending attitude. “Well, if you won’t give me a gun, then I’ll just have to carry this knife with me for protection.” She reached down to the table where the breakfast was set for them and picked up the sharpest knife there. “This should do it.”
Jack stared at her in silence for a long moment as she stood before him with the knife in her hand.
“Stay here. Don’t go out,” he said harshly as his gaze went over her. “I’ll be back to check on you later.” He turned and left them, shutting the door behind him.
“I don’t think he was too pleased with your wanting to carry a weapon,” Eileen said, staring after him, confused by the sudden change in him. It had been strange, almost chilling.
Amanda knew he seemed angry, but she didn’t care. “He’s probably just upset because I want to take care of myself. He’ll come around.” She looked down at the knife she still held. “This isn’t a very good weapon, but it’s better than nothing.”
She slipped it carefully into the pocket of her gown. She would never be defenseless again.
Jack’s expression was grim as he headed straight for the saloon. It might be late morning, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He was going to have a drink, and he was going to have it now. The sight of Amanda standing there, the knife in her hand, had dealt him an almost physical blow. He needed to get away from the memories. He needed to escape. And he knew whiskey was his only salvation. If he had a drink, he could deal with his weaknesses. If he had a drink, he could face the life he was leading. If he had a drink.
