He stood and stared out the broken window until the sheriff emerged from behind a horse trough on the other side of the street. A barber's apron covered Dan's chest and white lather obscured half his face. The two deputies stepped out the door in the building behind the sheriff, wisps of smoke curling from their rifle barrels in the frigid air. One of them ran down the walkway toward the sprawled body in the street.
"Y'all all right over there, Cody?" the sheriff called.
"Yeah, Dan, go ahead and get Doc for that man out in the street."
"We been trying to get to him to see how bad he's hurt, but there were too many of them," Dan replied. "They kept us pinned down so we couldn't even get off a good shot at any of them. That poor son of a gun hasn't moved since we first spotted him, though."
"Where the hell is everyone? Why didn't they help?"
"Inside shaking in their boots, I reckon," Dan said scornfully. "Can't say as I blame them, I guess. That bunch meant business!"
Cody shook his head and turned from the window, striding to the counter to check on the woman and child. He found them huddled together, the woman's head bent protectively over the boy in her arms. For just a second he glared down at the woman, resenting the fact that his need to protect her and the child had interfered with his aiding Dan — perhaps catching the robbers in a crossfire. Almost every penny he had in the world was in that bank, all of it earmarked for the needs of his daughter and aunt.
It wasn't her fault, he reminded himself just as quickly, realizing how absurd it was to blame the frightened figure on the floor. It was those damned cheap bullets — the only kind available after the war — that had jammed his sixgun.
"Are they gone, Cody?" Tom's strident whisper broke into Cody's concentration.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, they're gone," Cody replied with barely a glance at the old man. He laid a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder instead of the tousled curls the hand strained toward. "It's safe for you to come out now, ma'am," he said in a voice softened with consolation in an attempt to ease her abject fright.
Shanna clutched Toby even tighter, still hearing the echoes of shots and men's shouts in her mind. "No," she moaned with a shake of her head. "They'll kill us. I can't let anything happen to Toby."
"Ma'am, please," Cody soothed. He gripped her arms and tugged upward, but she resisted the pressure, still shaking her head. "It's all right now," he reassured her again. "Come on out of there so we can check the boy's hand a little better and make sure you're all right."
"Shanna." Toby struggled in Shanna's grasp. "Shanna, you're crushing me." He managed to get his uninjured hand free and swatted at Shanna's shoulder. "Shanna, let go!"
Shanna lifted her head a fraction of an inch and stared down into Toby's face. "Hush, Toby. There's men...and...and guns. They shot at us! I'll take care of you. I promised you I always would."
"Ma'am, the men are gone," Cody repeated.
"Don't you hear him, Shanna?" Toby insisted. "He says they're gone. Come on, Shanna. Let go, so I can breathe."
Slowly Shanna loosened her hold on Toby and glanced up at the man standing over her. He gave her an encouraging nod and almost at once a good deal of her fear left her as she studied his warm, brown eyes for a brief instant. She allowed Toby to rise to his feet, grabbing his arm in a firm grip when he tried to move away from her.
"No! You stay right here with me, Toby!"
"But Shanna, I wanna go see what happened out in the street. There's probably all kinds of dead bodies out there! If we don't hurry, they'll carry them off before we get to see them!"
"Good lord," Shanna breathed. "You're not going anywhere, Toby. You mind me and stay here!"
"She's right, son," Shanna heard the man standing over them say. Keeping a tight hold on Toby's arm, she pulled her legs under her and awkwardly stood up. The man gripped her shoulders to steady her, his touch gentle, yet firm.
"Aw, some big sister," Toby grumbled under his breath. He scuffed the toe of one boot against the floor as he gazed longingly at the front of the land office. "I still wanna see."
"That's enough, Toby." The hands on her shoulders fell away and Shanna glanced behind her at the broad male chest. She had to tilt her head back at an ungainly angle to see the face above the wide shoulders. He stood so close she could smell the open-air scent of his coat, mixed with the masculine after shave, and reassurance flowed from the velvety pools of eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face.
A woman could rely on a man like this. The thought sprang unbidden into Shanna's mind as she found it difficult to tear her gaze away. Trust him with her life, as indeed she and Toby had just done. She cleared her throat to force her voice past the last, lingering terror in her chest.
"Toby and I owe you our heartfelt thanks," she said earnestly, wishing she could somehow think of stronger words to express her gratitude. But she was still struggling against the slowly receding fright and guilt over dragging Toby into the middle of a shootout. At least, that's what she told herself it was when she fought the urge to fling herself into those protective arms once again.
Abruptly, Cody sucked in his breath and stepped back, the memory surfacing again, demanding his acknowledgement this time. My God, how could he have missed it before? Even the clear, Yankee accent led credence to the nagging suspicion trying to claw its way up through the fast crumbling layers of resistance in his mind.
He quickly jerked his hat down over his eyes, though a corner of his mind told him she couldn't possibly know him. When he tore his eyes away from her puzzled expression, he glanced down at the child by her side. It couldn't possibly be....
Sensing his change of attitude, Shanna gasped and moved protectively between the man and Toby, drawing the walnut-hued inspection back to her own face. Fighting the thought that this man might be more of a threat than the entire gang of bank robbers and confused at the sudden stab of hurt the cold look now on Cody's face sent through her, she drew herself up to her full height and eyed him warily as she tried to edge past him.
"Excuse us," she said in a tight voice when he thrust out an arm to block her path. "We need to get to the hotel."
"Who the hell are you?" he growled deep in his throat.
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Montana Surrender Page 33
