The Lawman (The Willow Creek Series #1)

by Lily Graison

  Her blood was near boiling point now that the immediate danger was over. Her outrage burned like acid in her stomach that these scoundrels would saunter into her father’s bank and steal what little these people had.

  There wasn’t a sound from outside. No outcry from anyone. What was wrong with the people of this town? These bandits had robbed them blind and they weren’t going to lift a finger, or their voice, in protest?

  Seeing the shotgun on the table, Sarah crossed the room and snatched it up before running to the counter and reloading it. “Thomas, run out the back and try to get to the jail.” He looked at her, startled, and protested but she ignored him and ran to the front door, ignoring those in the bank telling her to stay behind the counter.

  Stepping out on the newly laid wooden sidewalk she set her sights on the outlaws, all sitting on their horses now, looking for one in particular. She found him moments later. He was shouting orders for the others to go. Lifting the heavy gun, she sighted on him and pulled the trigger.

  The outlaw’s hat flew over the top of his horse’s head. The animal reared up on its hind legs before the rider was able to get control of him. He turned the beast back to the bank and Sarah lifted the gun again. It wasn’t loaded but she hoped he would think otherwise.

  His black hair shone in the noonday sun. It was long, curling over the collar of his coat and fell over his forehead to lie across his eyebrows. He lifted his hand to push those fallen strands away from his face and her breath was cut short when he locked eyes with her. She was finally able to see them. They were the palest blue she’d ever seen. They held her in place, taunting her inability to handle the gun. The skin around his eyes wrinkled again and she knew he was smiling. She’d nearly shot his head off and the arrogant man was smiling.

  “You missed. Again.”

  Sarah lifted the gun another inch. “Maybe, but not by much. Shall I keep trying?”

  He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that Sarah felt to the soles of her feet. She glanced down the dusty street at the other end of town. The townsfolk were stirring, some running toward the jail.

  If this outlaw had indeed tied William, the marshal, up it wouldn’t be long before he was loose. Looking back at the outlaw, she noticed he seemed in no hurry to leave. He was still watching her, his arms now folded over the pommel of his saddle, his hat abandoned on the ground. She lifted her chin to him when he did nothing but sit there and stare at her. “What are you waiting for?”

  “I thought you were going to shoot me.”

  She swallowed. He knew the shotgun was empty. He was taunting her. Lowering the gun, she rested the barrel on the sidewalk. “The marshal will be here soon. Stay where you are.”

  His laughter followed her curt demand. He sat up suddenly, swung his leg over the horses back, and jumped to the ground. Sarah tensed and took two steps back.

  Picking up his hat, he dusted it off and placed it on his head, lowering the front as he turned back to her. “It’s been a real pleasure, Ma’am, but I’m afraid I’m out of time.” In an act that spoke of his arrogance, or complete stupidity, he raised his hand and lowered the bandana that covered his face. Sarah stared at him and knew she’d never see another man who looked as he did. Hard, cold and completely heart stopping.

  The dusting of stubble on his chin made him look rugged. His square jaw, firm and strong. Full lips and high cheekbones that only accentuated his eyes more. They were mesmerizing. He was mesmerizing. She blinked and looked back down the street. They were coming. The townsfolk had finally snapped out of their daze and were coming. She didn’t see William, her soon to be fiancé and town marshal, among them.

  Turning back to the outlaw, Sarah saw him watching the men down the street. “Looks like they’ll catch you after all,” she said, smugly.

  When he turned back to her, he smiled. “Maybe.”

  The curve of his mouth caught her attention. The whiteness of his teeth. All straight and he actually had them all. Something she wasn’t used to seeing, especially in those who lived a life as rough as he probably did. Such perfection shouldn’t be given to a rogue the likes of this man. He was too handsome by half. Too handsome for her good sense.

  A ground-shaking explosion rocked her on her feet moments before a fireball lit up the sky. Screams and shouts followed, the sound of wood splitting echoing in the distance before burning embers rained down onto the ground. She stared toward the old smithy in stunned silence as the fire grew. Hearing a horse snuffling, she turned back to the outlaw. He was in the saddle, staring at the chaos. With a final glance at her, he tipped his hat, smiled, and turned his horse, heading in the opposite direction of town.

  Sarah dropped the gun and ran out into the street, watching him ride away with his stolen money, knowing no one would catch him. A man stepped off the sidewalk at the Saloon at the end of the street and fired one shot at him. The outlaw’s horse reared before he got it under control and he fired a shot back.

  More gunfire from behind startled her and she turned. Another masked man was riding toward her. When she realized he wasn’t slowing down, she turned and ran for the bank. She wasn’t fast enough. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and she let out a startled scream as she was scooped from the ground and laid across the outlaws’ thighs, belly down.

  “Let me go!” Sarah struggled, kicking her feet and screaming. He smacked her hard on the bottom, laughing when she yelped, before snaking one arm around her waist and holding on. His grip was painful and her heart raced when the man from the Saloon raised his gun at them when they neared. Thankfully he saw her and didn’t shoot.

  The outlaw drove the horse at a punishing pace and Sarah was powerless to do anything but shield her face from the onslaught of wind and dust. Her stomach rolled from the rapid jarring as the horse raced across the plain and from seeing the ground pass by in a blur under her. She turned her head to the man behind her and glanced up at him through her lashes. The lower half of his face was covered, his eyes unreadable as stone. He stank to high heaven and his grip on her was this side of painful.

  They left the town behind and rode for what seemed like hours through wide-open plains, the sun dipping down behind the mountains in the distance. The area was barren except for the sagebrush painting the horizon. The sun was hot and sweat trickled down her spine. He slowed the horse enough to sit her up. She was thankful as the blood that had collected in her head finally started traveling where it was supposed to go but this new position wasn’t much better. The man behind her was felt more intimately against her bottom with every step of the horse. She shuddered at the thought of what he’d do with her when he reached where he was going.

  As time passed, Sarah kept looking over her captors shoulder. She saw no one, no dust cloud signaling the approach of other riders. It meant William wasn’t coming after her. Did he even know she’d been taken?

  An hour later, at the base of a rocky outcrop, the outlaw slowed his horse and gave a whistle that pierced her ears. An answering call sounded in the distance and he nudged the horse into a gallop. Riding through a maze of solid rock, and into a small gorge, Sarah saw the others. The men who’d robbed her father’s bank. They were sitting on the surrounding rocks, their horses off to one side grazing on the sparse grass growing in the small enclosed space. She looked for the man she thought was the leader, the man she’d tried to shoot, repeatedly, but missed. She didn’t see him and puzzled over the fact.

  She counted eight men total. There hadn’t been that many inside the bank. Where had these extra men come from and were there more of them? Her initial fear grew as they all seemed to notice her at the same time. One man stood, grinned and threw his head back and laughed. “Hot damn, Virgil. Where’d you find that piece of tail?”

  The man at her back laughed and dumped her none too gently to the ground. “Standing in the middle of the road outside the bank. Figured since she was there, might as well have her.”

  Sarah scrambled to a nearby rock, flattening her back to it
s rough surface and watched as the men laughed and gawked at her. Her knee ached from the fall off the horse and seeing so many men surrounding her, the fear she’d felt since being abducted grew.

  Her hair, once pinned pristinely to the back of her head, had fallen to dangle around her face. She lifted her hand, pushing the mass of curls away so she could see and noticed her hand was shaking. She clamped it between her knees and let her gaze roam the entire area.

  The scraggly group of men lounged in small groups, each one interested in her all of a sudden. Her heart started racing as she took them all in and she wondered what they were going to do with her. The images that came to mind caused a shiver to race up her spine.

  A tall man, his long stringy hair hanging halfway down his back stood and took a few steps closer to where she sat. He stared at her, spit out a black stream of tobacco juice that dribbled down his chin, and shook his head. “Colt won’t let you keep her.”

  Virgil, the foul smelling man who’d taken her, jumped from his horse. “Fuck Colt. He aint the law around here.”

  Sarah listened to them argue, Virgil, the loudest. The majority of the conversation was about her but it soon turned to the money they’d stolen and to Colt, the man Sarah now knew led this gang of ruffians. Her thoughts turned to him as she stared at the men around her. If tobacco guy said Colt wouldn’t let Virgil keep her, did that mean he’d let her go? Somehow she didn’t think so.

  Long minutes ticked by and they seemed to forget she was there. While the men were occupied in their conversations, and heated arguments, Sarah slid along the rocks, inch-by-inch, careful to not make any sound. She was halfway to the small opening they’d ridden through by the time Virgil noticed her.

  He cocked his head to one side, grinning at her. “Where you think you’re going?”

  Sarah froze, her eyes wide as she stared at him. When he took a step toward her she leaped to her feet and ran. He caught her before she could make it to the opening of the outcrop they were hiding in. When he picked her up, her feet dangling in the air, she screamed. Her shrieks only caused them more glee, their taunts of what they’d do with her spoken with more certainty.

  Virgil yelled for a rope as he carried her to a nearby tree, the spindly branches sweeping low to touch the ground. The trunk was small and lashing her to it was done in a matter of minutes. With her hands behind her, fastened around the tree, she could move nothing but her feet, which she used whenever one of them came near her.

  “She’s a hellion, Virgil. Be hours a’ fore we can break her.”

  Sarah’s eyes burned and she blinked to erase the tears trying to form. “You come near me and I’ll break your nose!” When Virgil walked toward her, his hands on his belt buckle, she gritted her teeth and hoped to God she’d have the strength to fight them all off.

  “I can break her. Aint no woman around who can resist me.”

  Laughter from the others was blocked out as Sarah’s gaze fell to Virgil. His belt was undone and when he reached into his pants, pulling out his erection, she turned her head.

  The sun was going down, the sky painted in hues of purple and orange. Small puffy clouds dotted the horizon and she again wondered where William was. Of all the people she expected to come for her, he was the first on her list and not because he was the town marshal. He’d asked her to marry him. She should have given him a definite answer instead of telling him she wanted to think about it. Plain stubbornness had made her wait. That same stubbornness would probably be the death of her.

  Virgil closed the distance between them and it wasn’t until he was right in front of her that Sarah turned to look at him. And planted the toe of her boot in his groin. His womanly scream was followed by another as she kicked him again when he fell to his knees. Three more kicks followed the first two before he rolled far enough away she couldn’t reach him. She was panting for breath by then, those tears she’d been fighting filling her eyes.

  Watching the others, she waited for them to come at her but they were too busy laughing at Virgil’s failed rape attempt to bother. The sun crept lower on the horizon and by the time Virgil was able to stand again, the air had cooled.

  The look on his face when he turned toward her would have scared her on a normal day but after what she’d been through since noon, it didn’t faze her much. He was angry, that was a given, and the taunts from his friends only made it worse.

  He came at her again, knocking her foot away when she tried to kick him and backhanded her for her trouble. Her face exploded with heat from the brutal hit. When he grabbed her by the hair, slinging her head back into the tree, her vision blurred, her knees went weak, and her body slumped as pain shot through her head. His heated words were harsh next to her ear as he told her what he was going to do to her and she fought the dizzying need to close her eyes and slip into oblivion. He was pulling her skirts up when the laughter she heard in the background stopped. A small clicking sound in front of her forced her eyes open. The noise had come from a gun, its barrel lying against Virgil’s temple.

  “Let her go.”

  Virgil stilled, his watery eyes fixed on hers. When he smiled, Sarah saw his rotten teeth and looked away, up at the man she’d tried to shoot at the bank. Their leader, the blue-eyed man she knew she’d never forget.

  Colt, they had called him, glanced at her briefly; his eyes held a lethal calmness that caused a shiver to dance over her limbs.

  Fixing his gaze back on Virgil, he took a step closer and pushed the barrel of the gun harder into the side of his head. “I won’t ask you again, Virgil. Unless you want your brains splattered across this pretty ladies face, then I suggest you let her go.”

  End of Excerpt

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  About the Author

  LILY GRAISON resides in North Carolina, a stones throw away from the Blue Ridge Mountains and a few hours from the Outer Banks. First published in 2005, her debut novel won a Reviewers Choice Award. The author of over a dozen published books, Lily writes in the Western, Contemporary and Paranormal Romance genres.

  When not writing, Lily can be found at her sewing machine creating 1800’s Period Dresses or curled up in a chair with a book in her hand.

  For more about Lily Graison, visit any of the following websites:

  Website: http://lilygraison.com/

  Blog: http://lilygraison.blogspot.com/

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/LilyGraison

  FaceBook: http://www.facebook.com/authorLilyGraison

  Newsletter: http://lilygraison.com/newsletter/

  Email Lily:lily.graison@gmail.com

  Other books by this author

  Western Romance

  The Lawman (Willow Creek #1)

  The Outlaw (Willow Creek #2)

  The Gambler (Willow Creek #3)

  The Rancher (Willow Creek #4)

  Contemporary Romance

  Wicked: Tempt Me Not (Wicked Series #1)

  Wicked: Leather and Lace (Wicked Series #2)

  Wicked: Jade Butterfly (Wicked Series #3)

  Wicked: Sweet Temptation (Wicked Series #4)

  A Touch of Heaven (single title romance)

  Destined Hearts (single title romance)

  Blame It On The Mistletoe (single title romance)

  That First Christmas ( single title romance)

  Paranormal Romance

  The Calling (Night Breeds Series #1)

  The Gathering (Night Breeds Series #2)

  Table of Contents

  The Lawman

  © Copyright 2011 - Lily Graison

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Bonus Mate
rial

  About the Author

  Other books by this author