Darlin' Druid

by Lyn Horner

  Jessie came to with her mouth and throat on fire. She moaned and tried feebly to avoid the cup being pressed to her lips.

  “Take another swallow, Jessie,” David’s voice commanded.

  She did as he said. The fiery liquid seared her throat, making her cough again, but it started a warm glow in her belly that spread through her blood. She forced her eyes open, and David’s face swam into focus. Worry lines creased the corners of his eyes and mouth, making her want to smooth them away. Inhaling his familiar scent, she smiled groggily, expecting him to kiss her. Instead, he frowned and drew back.

  That’s when she saw Blake standing there with his gun pointed straight at her, and she shrieked as memory crashed into place.

  He laughed, clearly enjoying her fear. “Welcome back, my pet. Do forgive me for giving you such a start,” he said in that deadly soft tone she recalled from yesterday. Dressed in western clothes, with a gun belt strapped around his waist, he wore a low-crowned felt hat. Beneath it a white bandage wrapped around his head; four red nail tracks scored his right cheek. His hazel eyes blazed with hate, again reminding Jessie of the madman from her water vision, despite being the wrong color.

  She instinctively reached for David, who continued to squat beside her. Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against his chest, and she clutched at his jacket. Seeing Blake’s lips compress with rage, she said unevenly, “I should have killed ye when I had the chance.”

  “But you didn’t,” he growled. “Now you’ll have to pay for your oversight, and for this.” He fingered his temple. “I see you also bear a souvenir of our little tête-à-tête. Alas, I fear you’ll have a few more bruises before the night is out. And don’t expect your brother or your lover, who seems to have misplaced his shiny brass buttons, to save you. You’re quite at my mercy, my dear.”

  Unable to suppress a terrified whimper, Jessie heard Tye curse furiously and felt David go rigid.

  “That’s what you like, isn’t it, Stanton,” David said. “You enjoy hitting helpless women, like Sarah over at Alta Nell’s.”

  Blake inhaled sharply, eyes widening in surprise. “How do you know about . . . ?” he blurted.

  Wondering who Sarah was, Jessie glanced up at David and saw his lips curl with contempt.

  “Her broken jaw’s mending crooked, by the way,” he said, “and she wanted everybody to know who gave it to her.”

  Jessie gasped and shot Blake a horrified stare.

  “That whore!” he ranted, turning a furious red. “I told her what I’d do next time if she tried to cause me trouble! When I get through with her –”

  “There won’t be a next time,” David snarled. “She left town. And as for Jessie, I’ll send you to hell before I let you have her!”

  Blake’s face contorted with rage, and Jessie feared he would shoot David, but then his disdainful sneer returned. “No doubt your bravado impresses her, Taylor, but it doesn’t worry me. And now that I’ve had my fun with you, I believe I’ll get on to more interesting entertainment.” Leering at Jessie, he raised his voice. “Get in here, you two!”

  Jessie caught her breath, heart leaping with fresh terror as two hard-eyed toughs strode in, guns drawn. She clutched tighter to David and felt the muscles of his arm harden across her shoulders.

  “Cover the two men,” Blake ordered.

  Without a word, his henchmen took position on either side of him, the one to his right aiming at Tye, the other at David.

  Swallowing hard, Jessie heard David mutter an oath under his breath. Her gaze flew to his face. His expression was grim, but as he gently disengaged her fingers from his jacket, his eyes narrowed, sending her some sort of message. Despite their dire situation, she felt a spark of hope, knowing David Taylor would never go down without a fight.

  He rose slowly to stand beside her, resting one hand on her shoulder. She stiffened her spine. Whatever he had in mind, she was determined to help in any way she could.

  Blake smiled snidely at her. “I don’t believe you’ve met Farley and Chase, my dear. They’re friends of mine, and before the night is over, I’m sure they’ll be close friends of yours, as well.”

  Jessie’s stomach revolted at the thought of him and his friends touching her, but she forced down the queasy feeling and lifted her chin. “We’ll see about that, Blake Stanton.”

  He hooted gleefully. “Ah, so you’ve decided to show that fierce spirit I so much admired, have you? This does promise to be a delightful evening.” Smoothing his mustache in a familiar manner that made her want to claw his face again, he eyed David. “You didn’t think I’d be fool enough to come here alone, did you?” he taunted.

  “I should have known you weren’t man enough,” David said, his voice thick with contempt.

  Blake turned red again. “It would give me great pleasure to make you eat every one of your slights, you insolent cur! But since I have other plans . . .” He grinned fiendishly at Jessie. “. . . I must regrettably leave you to my friends. Now step away from her!”

  Everything in David rebelled. Looking down at Jessie and seeing the terror she tried valiantly to hide, he knew he had to make a move now, before it was too late. But what move?

  “I said get away from her!” Stanton shouted. “Or I’ll . . . shoot you where you stand.”

  Catching his brief hesitation, David knew all at once that he wouldn’t shoot unless forced into it. Gunfire would attract curious miners, and that would spoil Stanton’s plans. More than that, he’d been in Alta before, meaning he might be recognized. No doubt he intended to ride off with Jessie while his hired killers did his dirty work. But things weren’t going to go according to plan.

  “I’m not moving and neither is Jessie,” David said.

  Gnashing his teeth, Stanton shook with rage, but as David expected, he held his fire. The coward glared at Jessie. “Come here!” he ordered, nearly shrieking the words.

  She shook her head. “No!”

  “Leave her be, ye devil!” her brother roared. Ignoring the gun aimed at his heart, he took a step toward Stanton, causing his nervous guard to cock his gun.

  “No, Tye!” Jessie screamed. “They’ll kill ye!” She would have shot to her feet if David hadn’t pressed her down.

  “For blessed sake, Jess,” Tye protested, “I can’t just –”

  “Devlin, you’re not helping Jessie,” David barked. Before the hot-headed fool could ruin their one chance for survival, he said, “Stanton, I told you she’s not moving. If you want her, you’ll have to come and get her.” He gave Jessie’s shoulder a warning squeeze and laughed mockingly. “But you’re too yellow to do that.”

  His goad worked. Snarling, Stanton charged at him, raising his gun like a club, blind to the fact that he was stepping between David and the gunman covering him.

  David dove to the floor, going for his gun, lying near the stove, where he’d kicked it. Stanton shouted an alarm and Jessie screamed. A six-shooter roared and a bullet thudded into the dirt floor near David’s head just as his hand closed around the butt of his Colt. Rolling, he ended up on his back, the .44 clutched in both hands, hammer cocked. He squeezed the trigger, the gun’s report rang in his ears and gun powder stung his nostrils.

  His would-be killer jerked as David’s bullet caught him in the heart, causing his second shot to go wide. The slug buried itself in the dirt like the first one. The man gave a startled grunt and looked down at the red stain flowering on his shirtfront before toppling over. He was dead when he hit the ground.

  Almost simultaneously, a third gun barked, followed by a growl of pain and another scream from Jessie. David saw Tye Devlin fall, arms locked around the other gunman. Then Stanton cursed savagely, and seeing his gun swing away from Jessie, toward him, David prepared to fire. Before he could get a bullet off, a red-haired tornado launched herself at Stanton, shrieking and beating him with her fists. He yelped and stumbled sideways, then rounded on her, growling in rage. David tried to take aim, but Jessie blocked his line o
f fire, fists pounding furiously at her target.

  Afraid Stanton would shoot her, David levered to his feet just as the bastard brought his gun up and struck Jessie a glancing blow to the side of her head. She cried out in pain and staggered.

  “You’re a dead man, Stanton!” David bellowed in black fury. Again he brought his gun to bear on the rogue, but he was once more thwarted when Stanton grabbed Jessie and hauled her in front of him, with her back to his chest.

  “No, you are!” he shouted, firing wildly.

  David dodged the bullet, nearly falling over Tye Devlin and his opponent – now locked in snarling combat on the floor by the bunk. He regained his footing as Stanton backed Jessie toward the open doorway. She sagged in his grasp, eyelids drooping, but he forced her chin up with the barrel of his gun, effectively hiding behind her.

  “Let her go!” David gritted. He aimed at Stanton’s forehead but dared not fire. If his shot went half an inch low it would hit Jessie.

  “Let her go? When she makes such an excellent shield? I think not. Besides, I have plans for her, don’t forget. And they don’t include you!” Laughing, Stanton fired off another round.

  Again David dodged aside at the last second, wondering desperately how he was going to stop the maniac from escaping with Jessie. An answer arrived as Stanton started to back out the door.

  “Here now, what are you doing with that girl, mister?” a voice boomed from out of the darkness behind him. “And what’s all the gunplay? Devlin, you alive in there?”

  Screeching like a trapped animal, Stanton shifted Jessie, trying to keep her between himself and David, and turned to look over his shoulder. He raised his arm and fired, and there came a pained cry from outside. By then Jessie’s head had sagged forward, giving David a clear target.

  “Stanton, you murderous bastard!” he roared.

  The easterner swung his head around and made a choking sound when he found the muzzle of David’s Colt pointed dead center between his eyes. He jerked his head aside reflexively, and although David tried to adjust his aim, he was already squeezing the trigger. The bullet went low and to the side.

  Blake heard the gun roar as the left side of his face exploded in agony. He screamed, spewing blood over Jessie and himself while air gushed through his torn cheek.

  “Christ!” Taylor swore. Then he cocked his gun again.

  Mewling in pain, Blake hastily laid his own gun under Jessie’s chin and forced her head back up, again using her for cover. She moaned groggily. He tried to order her to stand up straight, but it came out as a bloody garble. Driven beyond any reason, he shrieked, lifted the gun and took another wild shot at his hated enemy.

  Taylor flung himself aside and fired. Blake screamed as fresh pain shot up his right arm. His gun fell to the floor, and he stared in horror at his shattered wrist. Then he met the merciless green eyes across from him and believed himself lost. But for once, luck was with him. A muffled shot sounded from the floor, drawing his pain-racked gaze to his remaining accomplice, who lay sprawled atop Tye Devlin. Jessie mumbled her brother’s name, and Taylor glanced over his shoulder at the motionless pair.

  Taking advantage of his distraction, Blake sent Jessie staggering with a hard shove. She cried out as he turned and plunged out the door, cradling his useless hand. He stumbled past the man he had shot – a moaning lump in the blackness – expecting another bullet to overtake him, but none did. He reached his horse, hearing disembodied voices coming up the street, and dragged himself into the saddle. Whimpering in pain, he jerked the horse around and kicked it into a run.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jessie crumpled to the floor, screwing her eyes shut against the pain that lanced through her head. Caught in a black whirlpool, she groped at the hard-packed dirt beneath her, seeking something to hold on to.

  She heard David utter an oath. He sounded far way, beyond the ringing in her ears, but then he was kneeling beside her, saying her name in a husky voice as he turned her over and gathered her to him. His scratchy wool coat rubbed against her cheek, his heart drummed under her ear, and his musky scent enveloped her. Thankful beyond words to be in his arms, and not Blake’s, she groaned in relief.

  The spinning sensation in her head slowed and the ringing sound faded. Daring to open her eyes, she saw David cast an urgent glance at the doorway and realized Blake must have fled. “Go after him,” she urged weakly.

  He looked down, frowning, and began to gently probe through her tangled hair. “I will, but first . . . .” His fingers found the tender spot on the side of her head, making her wince. “You’ve got the makings of a nasty bump, but it’s not bleeding.”

  “Jess, are ye bad hurt?” Tye asked hoarsely, drawing her to turn her throbbing head.

  “Nay! But you’re covered with blood!” she cried, seeing him roll the limp gunman off of himself. “Are ye shot?” She struggled to sit up with David’s assistance, fighting the fresh wave of dizziness that engulfed her.

  Tye levered onto his elbows, grimaced and stared at his fallen foe. “The blood is his, mostly. He only nicked my side when I went for him.” In a tone of horrified wonder, he added, “He’s dead. I tried to get the gun away from him, and the cursed thing went off.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. Dragging his gaze from the man’s body, he looked at David. “What of Stanton? He’s getting away, no?”

  “He won’t get far in the dark, I hope,” David said, keeping hold of Jessie’s arm. “How do you feel?” he asked her.

  “My head hurts,” she admitted, thinking yesterday’s headache mild by comparison. “And I’m f-f-freezing.” The door stood wide open, letting in the frigid night air. She shivered hard, feeling the cold clear to her bones now that she’d recovered her senses.

  “Be glad you’re alive to notice,” he chided, shrugging out of his coat. “Crazy woman! I thought sure that coyote would blow a hole in you. What were you thinking of, taking after him like that?”

  She bristled, ready to retort that she hadn’t thought, she’d simply reacted out of fear, fear for him. But as he wrapped her in his coat, surrounding her with blissful warmth, she recognized that he spoke out of fear for her. And she felt a tingle of pleasure at the realization.

  The sound of angry voices outside, accompanied by the glow of lanterns, caused her to stiffen.

  David patted her shoulder. “It’s all right. I think we’re about to get some help.” He glanced sharply at Tye then at her. “But before they come busting in, I have to ask you both not to mention me being in the army. I was sent here after a deserter who murdered a young officer at FortSanders. He’s believed to be in Utah, likely in one of the silver districts, but he’s not going to wait around if he finds out I’m on his trail. That’s why I’ve been passing myself off as a prospector, and I’d appreciate you not telling anybody different.” He cocked a questioning eyebrow at each of them.

  Jessie met Tye’s frowning gaze and recalled how enraged he’d been at her and David before Blake’s arrival. Would he refuse David’s request?

  He pushed to his feet, clutching his side. “I’ll not give ye away, Captain,” he said, “nor will Jessie, I’m sure. However, when this is over I’ll have some answers . . . from the both of ye.”

  Heat rushed into Jessie’s cheeks. Glancing up, she saw David’s jaw muscles bunch angrily, but all he said was, “Agreed.”

  Seconds later, three scowling miners crowded in the door, demanding an explanation for their wounded friend outside, now being rushed to a doctor, from what they said. The town marshal arrived practically on their heels, and after asking a few questions, he quickly took charge. Dispatching a few men to the undertaker’s with the bodies of Blake’s two henchmen, he strode back outside to organize the rest of the miners into a search party.

  Although Jessie’s head still pounded, by now she’d regained enough strength to tend Tye’s wound. It was, as he had said, only a shallow groove along his left side, not bad enough to require a doctor. Kneeling beside his chair, she
dabbed at the cut with a wet rag.

  “I’m going with them to look for Stanton,” David announced, feeding fresh bullets into the gun he had commandeered from one of the dead men. “Jessie, stay inside. Devlin, you’d better stick close to her until we round up the sidewinder.”

  Jessie caught her breath and stared at him. It hadn’t occurred to her that Blake might come back here after her.

  “Jaysus! D’ye think the villain could be lurking about?” Tye asked.

  David shrugged into the coat Jessie had returned now that the door was closed and the cabin had warmed up a bit. Meeting her frightened gaze, he grimly replied to her brother, “It’s possible.” He extended the reloaded pistol butt-first to Tye. “Here, you might need this. Have you ever used one before tonight?”

  “Nay, never,” Tye admitted. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he gingerly accepted the weapon. He looked a bit green, and Jessie guessed he was thinking of the man he’d unintentionally killed.

  Drawing his own gun, David instructed, “All you have to do is cock the hammer like this, aim and squeeze the trigger. Just take your time and don’t miss.”

  Watching him slip the gun back in his holster, Jessie wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him not to go. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Tye to protect her if Blake returned; she did. But she longed for David to hold her and tell her everything would be all right, and she couldn’t escape the thought of Blake hiding out there in the dark somewhere, waiting for David to come after him so that he could kill him.

  “Be careful,” she called as he turned toward the door.

  He looked back at her for a moment. One corner of his mouth quirked upward, then he nodded and strode out.

  * * *

  David returned to Tye Devlin’s shack around midnight, having had his fill of stumbling around the mountainside in the dark. Hailing the Irishman softly, he pushed open the door and was greeted by the glow of a dim lantern placed near the door to reveal intruders. He heard a gun hammer ease back into place.