Darlin' Druid

by Lyn Horner

  “No!” David bellowed, terrified that he was about to watch her die. But he sagged in relief when, instead of plunging the blade into Jessie, Stanton slashed the ropes binding her wrists.

  David’s relief ended when Stanton clamped an arm around Jessie’s waist. Using her for a shield just as he had done back in Alta, he backed hurriedly toward David’s position and the trees that ran along the creek behind the barn. Hearing the frightened neighing of horses from that direction, David realized the raiders must have picketed their mounts back there. Stanton obviously meant to escape – with Jessie!

  “Let her go, you bastard!” David thundered above the noise of gunfire and shouting as Stanton dragged her past him. “You’ll never get away!”

  Stanton laughed. “And who would dare try to stop me when I hold such a tender hostage?”

  “No, I won’t go!” Jessie shrieked, fighting to twist out of his grasp. “You’ll have to kill me first!”

  “Behave, bitch, or I will kill you right now.” Pressing his knife to her throat, Stanton taunted, “And you’ll never know whether you might have managed to escape me, will you?”

  “David!” she cried, looking at him with terror in her eyes.

  “Stanton, if you hurt her, I’ll find you no matter where you run! And I’ll tear you apart!” David roared. Hearing the varmint’s rabid laughter and Jessie’s despairing sobs fade away into the trees, he bared his teeth and growled, frenziedly trying to break free. A moment later, pounding hoofbeats told him Stanton was making his getaway. With a desperate cry, David twisted and strained, so hard that the ropes cut into his flesh. He barely noticed the pain.

  “Hold still!” a woman’s voice ordered sharply from behind the tree at his back.

  “Lil? My God, cut me loose! I’ve got to save Jessie!”

  “I’m workin’ on it,” she snapped, and he felt her saw at the rope with her knife. “When I cut around behind the barn I got a look at that fella who took off with her. He sure was a sight. You have something to do with that?”

  “Yes, and he means to make Jessie pay for it.” To fill the interminable seconds, he questioned, “How did you know to come here?”

  “Uncle Jeb got up early to check on an ailing mare. He spotted a fire over this way and rousted us out. Figured you might need some help.”

  “Thank God!” David said as the stubborn rope finally gave way. Throwing it off, he hastily rubbed his wrists to restore circulation to his numb hands, then pushed to his feet. He ducked around the tree and caught Lil in a brief, crushing embrace. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.” His voice was husky with emotion.

  She avoided his eyes when he let her go. “You don’t owe me a thing,” she said gruffly. Drawing her pistol, she handed it to him along with her knife. “Here. You’ll need these.”

  He slipped the gun into his empty holster and stuffed the knife down his boot. Shooting a glance at the charred house, where the fire had nearly burned itself out, he was glad to see his father sitting up out front. Anna also appeared to be moving.

  “The bastards roughed up Pa and Anna,” he told Lil. “And Sul and some of our other men are wounded. Will you see to them?”

  “Course I will.” As she turned away, she added, “Go on now. Go find your woman.”

  David needed no further urging. He ran into the barn and threw a bridle on the chestnut gelding. Not bothering with a saddle, he flung himself on the horse’s back and raced after Stanton, leaving the Crawfords to deal with the rest. All he cared about was saving Jessie.

  Stanton’s trail was plain to see in the growing light. And although the chestnut was tired from their ride during the night, the big horse proved his mettle as David urged him into a gallop. Sensing the urgency of their mission, he lengthened his stride to an all-out run down the valley.

  Soon, David sighted his quarry in the distance. Stanton had managed only a few minutes’ head start thanks to Lil, and his horse was carrying double. At this rate, David figured to quickly overtake him. What would he do then? Several ideas came to mind, but they would all put Jessie at greater risk.

  Moments later, Stanton glanced back and spotted David closing in. He uttered a berserk growl and lashed his mount into a faster pace. The horse flew over the ground for a short way, then lost its footing on a sudden dip in the land. Emitting a piercing shriek, it tumbled head over heels, sending both riders catapulting through the air.

  “No!” David cried, hearing another high-pitched scream, this one human. Fearing the worst, he raced toward the downed pair with his heart in his throat.

  * * *

  A shrill scream of agony reverberated through Jessie’s pounding head. The sound didn’t come from her own throat, although she vaguely recalled screaming when she went sailing through the air. There’d been an excruciating flash of white light, then bursts of color followed by blackness. Had she lost consciousness for a moment? She wasn’t sure.

  Now she lay face down on the ground, staring at a clump of coarse brown grass inches from her eyes. She noticed the gritty feel of dirt under her cheek and, tasting blood, discovered she’d bitten her tongue. It throbbed painfully.

  The agonized cry split the air again, and she realized it came from a horse. Groaning, she raised her head, blinked, and spit sandy dirt and blood from her mouth. A few feet to her left, the injured animal lay thrashing helplessly, both of its front legs obviously broken.

  Someone should put the poor creature out of its misery, Jessie thought groggily. Then she cried out as rough hands rolled her onto her back.

  “Alive, are you?” Blake snarled in her face. “I thought you were dead. I’m sure your husband will be glad to see you’re still breathing when he gets here.” He sneered at her cry of gladness. “Don’t get your hopes up, Jessie. I’m not about to let him have you.”

  Grabbing her arm, he jerked her to her knees and half dragged her over to the lip of the small, bowl-shaped depression they were in. He kept hold of her as he raised his head far enough to see over the top.

  The horse thrashed and neighed shrilly again. Filled with pity, Jessie pleaded, “Will ye not end the beast’s pain?”

  Ducking back down, Blake snorted in disdain. “Damned clumsy nag deserves to suffer.”

  His cruelty revolted her. She would have said as much, but the thud of galloping hooves caught her ear. David was almost here. She had to warn him! She attempted to scramble out of the sandy pit, but Blake snagged her around the waist and yanked her back, wrenching a cry of protest from her throat.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he slurred, hauling her in front of him as he had done before and pressing his back to the slanted embankment.

  “Nay, ye filthy muclach! I’ll not let ye kill my husband!” She fought furiously to break away as the hoofbeats drew close, but Blake crushed her to him with his right arm, drew his gun and held it to her head.

  “And just how do you propose to stop me, Jessie?” he jeered.

  I will! By the blessed saints, I will!

  * * *

  David bent low over his horse’s neck and veered right as they approached the hollow. When they were even with it he threw himself off the gelding and made a rolling dive down the shallow incline. Stanton fired at him, but the bullet went far wide, kicking up a spray of dirt.

  Hearing Jessie cry out his name, David came up in a crouch with his gun cocked, then froze when he saw her. She gazed at him in distress, the muzzle of Stanton’s gun pressed to her temple.

  “So nice of you to drop in, Taylor. As you see, we’ve been expecting you,” the varmint said with an acid laugh.

  David clenched his teeth in rage. “What I see is a yellow-bellied coward hiding behind a woman. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it. That and dishing out pain.”

  Stanton’s pale eyes glittered. “If you hope to provoke me into doing something rash, it won’t work. Not again. And if you try rushing me, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in Jessie’s head, I assure you.”

  “Do it and you w
on’t draw another breath.”

  “Perhaps not, but that won’t save her, will it? Now, if you want her to live a while longer I suggest you catch your horse and bring it here.”

  “So you can take off with her again? Not a chance. I’d rather kill her myself than give her up to you, knowing what you’d do to her.” Glancing at Jessie, David saw agreement in the quivering smile she gave him.

  “Is that so? And how would you like me to shoot her to pieces before your eyes?” Stanton threatened, lowering his gun to her thinly clad breast.

  Jessie gasped at the touch of the cold metal. She tried to strain away, clawing at the ground beside her for leverage. Surprisingly, her hand encountered something hard and smooth among the dried grass. Feeling the object cautiously with her fingers, she realized it was Blake’s knife. She’d forgotten all about it, and obviously so had he. Finding the handle, she grasped it firmly.

  “You pull that trigger, you stinking son of a bitch, and I’ll cut you to ribbons!” David said, voice thick with rage.

  Not giving Blake time to answer, Jessie twisted and struck, slashing his forearm with the knife. He screeched and his gun went off, but her blow had averted the barrel just enough. The bullet narrowly missed her breast. At the same instant, David gave a blood-curdling yell and lunged forward.

  Blake squealed and tried to shoot him, but Jessie knocked the gun aside as he fired. Then David was there, twisting the pistol out of Blake’s hand and pulling Jessie free.

  “Move away, love,” he said softly, eyes and gun trained on Blake – who lay there in frozen silence.

  Jessie obeyed, reading death in her husband’s gray-green eyes.

  So did Blake. Turning as white as a bleached skull, he stared down the gun barrel pointed at his head.

  One moment, David was poised to pull the trigger; then he eased the hammer into place. Tossing the pistol aside, he grinned ferociously at Blake’s stunned expression. “This is for Jessie and Rose back in Alta, and for all your other victims.”

  Baring his teeth, he smashed his fist into Blake’s scarred jaw, slamming his head against the bank behind him.

  Blake grunted and lay still, making Jessie think he’d been knocked out. She shrieked when he suddenly threw a handful of dirt in David’s face. Blinded, David couldn’t avoid the punch that caught him solidly on the chin, knocking him backward. He shook his head, blinking dirt from his eyes, and got his hands up in time to protect himself when Blake threw himself at him, snarling madly.

  The two of them rolled back and forth on the ground, growling and cursing and pummeling each other. Jessie hastily took refuge behind the maimed horse, whose shrill, pitiful neighs rose above the noise of the brawling men.

  Blake was smaller and lighter than David; he was also hampered by his twisted right hand and the bleeding gash Jessie had opened on his left forearm. But he fought with the strength of desperation, gouging, kicking, even biting – dirty tricks he’d no doubt learned on the rough backstreets of New York.

  For a few moments, Jessie feared he might actually win the battle. She should have had more faith in David, she soon realized.

  Swearing vehemently when Blake attempted to gouge out his eye, he drove his left fist into the villain’s belly, followed by a hard right to the jaw. From then on there was no question as to how the contest would end.

  Jessie couldn’t help feeling a certain vengeful satisfaction, seeing her husband pound the daylights out of the devil who had caused them and others so much suffering. But as Blake’s defensive efforts grew weaker and his face began to resemble raw meat, her stomach grew queasy. She couldn’t watch David beat him to death, even if he did deserve it.

  Stumbling over to David, she knelt beside him, catching his raised fist in both her hands. “Enough! He’s nearly dead.”

  “Let go!” he growled, possessed by blood lust. He attempted to shake her off, but she hung on.

  “David, don’t do this! Don’t be like him!”

  A muscle worked furiously along his jaw. Then he closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a shuddering breath. Opening his fist, he dragged himself off Blake. In the space of a breath, Jessie was in his arms and he was whispering her name over and over.

  She clung to him, weeping in relief.

  Totally caught up in one another, neither of them paid Stanton any mind. By pure luck, Jessie turned her head in his direction as she swiped tears from her cheeks. Seeing the hatred blazing at her and David from beneath Blake’s puffed, bloody eyelids, she gasped. Her eyes widened in alarm when his hand reached out for the glinting blade that lay dangerously close to him.

  “David, he’s got the knife!” she screamed.

  Reacting with lightning instincts honed by years of warfare, David shoved her aside and dove for his gun – lying where he’d tossed it. His hand closed around it as the knife drove into the ground inches from his side. Hearing Stanton snarl in frustration, he rolled and took aim. He met the man’s gaze for an instant, seeing resignation dawn; then he pulled the trigger.

  His forty-four roared; the bullet hit Stanton squarely in the forehead. His body jerked, expelled a last breath, and went limp, his sightless eyes staring at the bright morning sky.

  David lay motionless for a long moment. Then he heard Jessie whimper and looked over at her. She sat hugging herself as she stared at Stanton’s body.

  Picking himself up, David went to her and gathered her close. “It’s over, love. At last,” he whispered hoarsely, grateful beyond words to feel her arms encircle him and her warm breath brush his throat. Pressing his cheek against the top of her head, he rocked her gently until she stopped trembling.

  They left Stanton where he lay, along with the broken horse whose misery David had finally ended. He would send a couple of men out to bury the outlaw later. For now he just wanted to get Jessie home where she could rest – which might mean bedding down in the barn for a few days until he could erect some kind of temporary shelter. Restoring the house would take months, but that didn’t concern him. Jessie was safe in his arms, the only thing that mattered.

  Wrapped in his buckskin jacket, with the pearls he’d given her once more around her throat, she cuddled against him as he turned his horse toward home. He held the tired chestnut to a slow pace, content to savor the warmth of his wife in his arms and the sweetness of her mouth when she turned it up to him.

  “I love you,” he murmured against her lips, speaking the words he’d been afraid to say for so long.

  Jessie caught her breath, joy singing through her. She tilted her head back and gazed at him with misty eyes. “Oh, David, I loved ye before we ever met. I love ye so much now that I’d die without ye, but I’ve been too stubborn and fearful to admit it.”

  Groaning, he kissed her fiercely, then threaded his fingers through her hair and looked deep into her eyes. “It was the same with me. I wanted you, I couldn’t stay away from you, but I refused to admit even to myself that I loved you.” He hesitated, then added, “Because I was afraid you’d hate it here the way my mother did . . . and that you’d want to leave me.”

  “Idiot man! Did I not tell ye I’d never break my vows?” she said, shaking her head. As she spoke, tears spilled from her eyes.

  He tenderly knuckled the drops from her cheeks. “I thought you’d change your mind once you saw how isolated it is out here. And I didn’t believe you loved me. Until last night, when I finally figured out why you were so jealous of Lil.”

  She bit her lip, distraught by the memory of her shrewish behavior at the party. “Oh, David, I’m so sorry for accusing ye the way I did, for thinking ye untrue. Can ye ever forgive me?”

  He buried his face in her hair and hugged her tight. “If you’ll forgive me for being such a blind, cowardly fool.”

  Jessie gave a shaky laugh. “I’m thinking we’ve been a pair of fools. But never again, aye?”

  Placing a finger under her chin, David gently tilted her face up. “Never. I love you, Jessie Taylor, and I’m going to make d
amn sure you know it from now on.” Closing her eyes with his lips, he kissed his way to her mouth. When she was completely breathless, he whispered, “Now, darlin’, I think you have something else to tell me.” As he spoke, he splayed a hand over her belly.

  She gasped and her eyes flew open. “You know!” she blurted, watching his bruised, beloved face crease into a grin.

  He chuckled and lifted a rakish brow. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the changes in your lovely body, when I’m so thoroughly fascinated by it?”

  “But ye said not a word!”

  “I was waiting for you to tell me.”

  “Oh.” She guiltily dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry. I should have spoken.” Finding the courage to look up, she asked, “Does it please ye, then?”

  “More than I can say, my love,” he murmured, dusky green eyes aglow with love – exactly as in her dreams and her fateful water vision.

  Jessie gave a glad cry and pulled his head down to hers. For some moments they rode in silence, lost in each other. Then a niggling worry made her draw back.

  “David, ye don’t think the fall I took back there might cause me to lose the babe?”

  His arms tightened around her. “No, I don’t, and you’re not to think that, either. Everything will be fine. When it’s time, and only then, you’ll have our child in our own bed in our own house, I swear. And he – or she – will be as strong as our love.”

  Jessie stored up his words like treasure. She would cling to them over the coming months, she knew, as they rebuilt their home and while he was away on the cattle drive. For now, she set aside all worries and gave herself up to David’s passionate kisses. When his hand slipped beneath her borrowed jacket to play upon her eager senses, she sighed in heady delight.

  “Sure ’n you’re a lusty devil, David Taylor,” she breathed against his lips, feeling the delicious yearning his touch always evoked.

  He gave a throaty laugh. “Only with you, my love. Only and forever with you.”