by Jenna Kernan
More gunfire sounded.
Another man appeared, coming at a lope, rifle held at chest level. Laurie leveled the pistol but paused when she saw his rifle aimed at the retreating band of outlaws. Laurie glanced at Boon, still fighting Hammer. He was ten feet off and the outlaw’s pistol lay beside them. They now rolled and tumbled back and forth as each tried to stab the other with the knife they both gripped.
Another man appeared at the mesa bluff and Laurie swung the pistol back in that direction. Two shots, she remembered, one for Hammer, one for her. She had none left for whatever was coming up the hill.
George Hammer rolled to straddle Boon. Hammer used his head as a battering ram against Boon’s forehead. Hammer took possession of the knife and raised it. Laurie took aim and squeezed the trigger.
A piece of Hammer’s hat tore as the bullet whizzed by. Hammer glanced in her direction. In that instant Boon cocked a fist and landed a blow to the outlaw’s jaw. Hammer fell backward, but quickly scrambled for his pistol and swung it in Boon’s direction. He raised the weapon and Laurie did not hesitate. She closed one eye, sighted the center of Hammer’s chest and squeezed the trigger.
Two shots sounded simultaneously, one from a rifle behind her and one from the empty derringer Laurie held in her trembling hand.
George Hammer arched, dropping his knife. He stared at her as he lifted both arms in surrender. He stood, took two staggering steps in her direction when another rifle shot popped from behind her and he fell back into the mud, staring openmouthed at the cloudy sky, heedless of the rain. Boon staggered to his feet.
Someone shouted, “Go after the others.”
Laurie recognized the voice.
She turned and saw the shooter lowering his rifle, the dull gleam of the Texas star pinned to the man’s hat. Her heart pounded in her throat as the first glimmer of hope burst upon her like a beam of sunlight from the heavens.
Laurie looked at the man beside the shooter as he motioned behind him. He turned and pointed with his Colt revolver in the direction the outlaws had taken. Taller than the rifleman, he wore his star pinned to his slicker. He turned to her and she met cold blue eyes, so different from her own, but almost as familiar.
“Papa!” she cried, crawling to her feet.
The rifleman lifted his head at her cry, revealing gray eyes and a bushy black mustache, and Laurie recognized him, also. This was Sam Coats, her father’s second in command and the best shot among them. She should have known it was him, for the two were inseparable.
The second shot, which she had heard as she fired Boon’s mother’s pistol, had come from his gun. She closed her eyes and prayed that it was his bullet, and not hers, that had killed Hammer, for despicable as the outlaw may have been, she feared another dark mark on her soul.
Coats set off at a lope after the fleeing outlaws, calling over his shoulder, “Come on, boys.”
More of her father’s men appeared from cover, taking off after Coats.
John Bender walked slowly toward the Hammer’s still body and fired two more bullets into his chest, directly over his heart. Laurie winced and covered her mouth to keep the cry from escaping her.
Hammer did not move. Her father holstered his weapon in the well-worn, finely tooled leather sheath and opened his arms to his daughter. But Laurie ran to Boon, throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around him.
“Are you hurt?” she cried.
“No.”
Laurie pulled back to see his sodden sleeve red with blood. It ran in watery rivulets down his hand and onto the knife he still held.
She turned to her father. “Oh, Papa, he’s bleeding!”
John Bender took hold of Laurie, pulling her away from Boon. Her impulse was to yank her arm free and latch on to Boon again, but she thought better of it and stood stiff and uncertain as her father turned his attention back to Boon.
“Can you walk, son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come on then.”
Boon clutched his arm and rose slowly to his feet. Laurie tried to go to Boon’s side, but her father restrained her, clasping her elbow a little too tightly. “He can make it.”
Her father held her as they retraced their steps to the trailhead, leaving Boon behind. Laurie stopped, forcing the captain to do so, as well. His mouth was a tight line as he lifted one brow in her direction.
“He’s hurt,” she whispered.
Two of his men reached them, taking her father’s attention away from her. Laurie felt she could breathe again and she craned her neck to see Boon making his way toward them, his face also grim, his fingers gripping his injured upper arm so tightly they were ghostly white. She felt a tug in his direction pulling deep in her belly. As if sensing her intention, her father’s hold upon her forearm tightened.
“We got them all, Captain,” said Murdock, a tall, thin Ranger whose mustache curled like a pig’s tail on each side of his mouth, despite the rain.
“Bandage Boon and bring him down.”
“Yes, sir,” said Murdock, already reaching to untie his bandanna. She’d seen the large swathe of colorful cloth used for everything from a dust cover to a sling and thought it only slightly less vital than a man’s rifle.
Her father turned her toward the stage station. On their descent the rain changed again, the drops small and infrequent. Still she shivered now, her blouse and skirts soaked down the front from the gap in the open slicker.
“I shot a man,” she said.
“I saw. Broke his upper arm.”
Laurie felt a moment’s relief that she had not killed him.
“Coats finished him.”
“I shot Hammer, too.”
“No, that was Coats, as well.”
Something about the way he said it made it seem certain, as if just by saying so, he could make it true. But she knew one of her bullets had struck Hammer, no matter what he said. As she considered it, the horror of shooting a man washed away against the grim certainty that George Hammer had deserved to die.
The yard had turned into a quagmire of red mud that clung to her hem. She walked with her head up and shoulders back trying to look brave as the daughter of a famous Ranger, trying to pretend she had survived untouched.
“Laurie, cover yourself.” Her father lifted a finger to indicate her bosom.
The rain had soaked her bodice and it clung to her skin, revealing the swell of her breasts and the hard knots of her nipples. Laurie gasped and folded her arms across herself, hunching now in embarrassment as he hurried her past the bodies of the outlaws who had come to kill Boon and capture her.
Two of her father’s men stood over one corpse, discussing the bullet wound in the outlaw’s cheek. Laurie’s blood now felt as cold as her skin. She stumbled along, humiliated, ashamed and weakened. Rescue had come, but instead of elation she felt only misery.
Her father guided her into the adobe hut and ordered one of his men to bring a blanket for her to cover herself. Laurie removed Boon’s slicker and dutifully wrapped the coarse green wool about herself, veiling herself from neck to knee. Her feet squished inside her shoes but her father indicated that she dare not remove them as she sat before the smoldering fire.
“Wait here,” he said before ducking back into the rain.
Laurie waited in the dirty hut, listening to the rain patter. She glanced toward the window where she and Boon made their desperate escape. If only they could have kept running.
The world had caught her at last. She was back in her father’s keeping and her stomach roiled with worry as she rocked slowly back and forth, eyes set on the packed earthen floor.
Where was Boon? Was he all right?
After many minutes passed she began to stare hopefully at the door. She recalled the blood on Boon’s shirt, and rose. Then remembered her father’s orders
to stay and folded back to her place, staring at the door.
Her father’s partner, Sam Coats, came in, nodding as he removed his hat. The brim and crown were soaked, turning the tan hat brown, but the area above the hatband had remained dry. The fine braid had been made from the tail hairs of Sam Coats’s favorite horse, killed in action against Mexican rustlers some years ago, according to her father.
“Glad to see you well, Miss Laurie. Your pa was
beside himself.”
“Was he?” She saw no indication of any emotion except annoyance.
“Would have been here sooner but we ran into Apache raiders.”
“Is everyone all right?”
Coats nodded. “We chased them a-ways, but had to turn back.”
Now his look held annoyance, as if she had spoiled their fun.
“Where is Boon?”
“They got him in the stable.”
“Tending him?”
Coats made a gesture that was decidedly noncommittal.
Laurie rose.
Coats motioned back to the bench. “Your pa asked me to stay with you.”
Laurie felt dizzy at what she was about to do. She had always done as she was told and had never disobeyed her father before. She knew Boon’s wounds needed tending. Laurie stiffened her spine.
“I’m going out.”
“No, Miss Laurie. Stay put.”
“Then you bring Boon in.”
Coats shook his head. “I follow orders, same as you.”
Laurie took a tentative step. Would he bar the door, grab her, force her back to her seat? She took another step.
“Laurie, he’s already vexed at you for leaving the station with a complete stranger.”
That had been stupid. She had kicked herself all the way to the outlaws’ camp over that blunder. All Rangers wore their badge on their hat or their lapel when on business, not secreted in their pockets. But by the time she knew she was in danger, it had been too late. Laurie reached the door and opened it. Steam rose from the ground, but the rain had ceased. She held the blanket like a mantle and left the station. Coats caught up with her, walking at her side.
“Best turn around.”
“I am not your daughter, Mr. Coats. I do not take orders from you.”
The mud sucked at her shoes.
Coats blocked her advance. “I’m your father’s representative.”
“You’ll excuse me if I follow my own mind in this matter. Now stand aside, Mr. Coats.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bender stood with one boot resting on a dusty wooden crate, well inside the stable, regarded by two gray mules with long ears and bristly chins, while Boon sat on a low bench against their stall. The rest of his men waited outside.
Boon faced Laurie’s father alone.
“The Rangers will pick up any medical bill resulting from this injury. I’ll also clear you of any charges. You’ve earned a fresh start, son. Reckon you could ride shotgun again or try riding herd somewheres.”
Boon understood the implication. His job was finished. The captain had no further use for him and was sending him off to get him away from Laurie. He’d cleared his name, more than he deserved. Still it irked him to have the proof that he’d been used.
Bender didn’t want him near his men and certainly not near his little girl.
“I reckon it will,” he said, trying not to show this man the depth of his pain. This man for whom he was willing to give everything had thrown him away just like everyone else he ever cared about.
But despite what the captain wanted, Boon still had an obligation, not to Bender, but to his daughter. Laurie, once the means to ingratiate himself to this Ranger, was now much, much more.
He had brought her home, but not safe. Boon had bedded her and so he would be staying around until he was certain she did not need him.
“Might stay awhile, though,” he said, trying to make his decision sound casual.
“Why’s that?”
Boon shrugged. “Make sure Laurie’s all right.”
Bender leaned in, forearm on his knee, opposite hand on his hip. The smile still fixed on his lips, but his cold eyes narrowing, hardening. “She’s my daughter, son. That makes her welfare my responsibility.”
Should he tell him what had happened or wait it out? He didn’t want to spoil Laurie’s chances of marrying that damned banker, even though the thought of it stuck in his throat like a fish bone.
Boon shrugged again. “Might like to work for you again.”
Bender straightened, glancing away and then back. “Well, I don’t have any openings at present. But if you would like, I expect I could find something for you down in McAllen. Got friends ranching there.”
Yes, that was a good long way from Fort Worth and Laurie.
The generous offer showed just how much Bender wanted him gone from here. The captain was sending him off. Boon knew why. Laurie had revealed her feelings for him when she’d seen his arm wound. Running to him, holding him. Her father was no fool. Boon was not the sort he wanted near his girl, not the sort anyone wanted near their girl. The funny thing was that he agreed with Bender, and if he could, he’d leave right now.
But he couldn’t.
He’d not leave Laurie, frightened, alone and without means. He’d not leave her to face what the girls at the Blue Belle had faced, shunned, shamed and desperate. He couldn’t change what he had done, but he could protect her from that.
“There some particular reason you need to see that Laurie is all right, son?”
Boon brought his attention back to Captain John Bender. He should have known. Men like this Ranger went at a problem headfirst.
Boon nodded. “Yes, sir. There is.”
Bender’s pistol was out before Boon could lift his hands in surrender.
“You bedded her? My little girl?”
Boon looked down the barrel of the captain’s pistol and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Bender cocked his pistol. “You son of a bitch. I oughta shoot you where you stand.”
He said nothing because he felt much the same. He had as much right to Laurie as a flea had to a dog.
“Yes, sir” was all he could think to say.
“Did anyone else touch her?”
“Just me.”
“I sent you in there to protect her.”
And Boon knew he had failed. But he wouldn’t fail her again. And he’d be damned if he’d apologize to the captain for taking the best thing that ever came his way. Bender could shoot him if he wanted, otherwise he was staying.
“Maybe so, but I ain’t taking a job in McAllen. I’m staying ’til I know she’s all right.”
Bender spun his gun across and struck Boon a mighty blow to his temple. He saw a bright starburst of light and heard a shriek, like a steam engine whistle. Then he was falling slowly through space, but he never felt himself land.
* * *
Laurie stepped into the stable with Coats one pace back, in time to see her father strike Boon in the head with the butt end of his pistol. Boon’s scalp split open and blood sprayed down his face as his eyes rolled back white.
Laurie screamed, a high piercing wail of pain and horror as she held her hands to her face, allowing the blanket to fall behind her on the ground.
Her father turned, looked past her to Coats. “I told you to keep her in the station.”
“Wouldn’t stay put,” said his second, now grasping Laurie’s elbow and tugging her out the door.
Laurie wrenched free and when Coats lunged, she slapped him hard across his face. His eyes went wide. Laurie felt her scalp tingling as she realized what she
had done. She stood frozen before him as her heart slammed against her ribs. Then she heard Boon moan and all else f
aded.
She ran to him, dropping to her knees, wrapping her arms around him and turning him to his back. Blood filled the socket of his eye and rolled into his ear.
“No, no, no,” Laurie chanted as her brain threatened to shut down on her.
Her eyes fixed on Boon’s kerchief and she tried to release the knot, but her fingers were shaking so badly she had to squeeze them into fists to steady them before trying again. So much blood and there was a lump as hard as a knot on a tree, there on Boon’s head, just above his hairline. A jagged wound stretched across the knot, the ugly gash her father had given him.
She folded the cloth into a square and pressed it to the wound. In a moment her fingers were warm and sticky with his blood. She removed the neckerchief and folded it twice more before returning it to its place, pressing hard, praying hard.
She glanced to her father, wanting his help, knowing she would not get it. When their eyes met she saw the icy-blue glint of fury aimed like a pistol right at her.
There was no question in her mind. He knew exactly what she and Boon had done and he hated her for it.
“I thought you’d know better than to lift your skirts to the likes of him,” he said, his tone low, murderous.
“He rescued me,” she whispered.
“He raped you and I’ll see him hanged.”
She gasped, then shook her head, meeting the hatred in his eyes. “No, he didn’t.”
Her father turned his back on her. Laurie could not keep the tears from coming, choking her, blurring her sight and welling within her soul. It was hard to have her father look at her like this. The father she had always adored, the one for whom she had tried to be the perfect lady, now knew exactly the sort of woman she had become.
Laurie lowered her head in disgrace, frozen by the realization that he could see her now as she truly was. But despite the humiliation, she would not hide the truth at the cost of Boon’s life.
