River Song (25 page)

Sean had traveled less than an hour before he discovered he'd veered too far to the northeast during his detour to the Hobbs ranch and subsequent journey from there. Stopping near the top of a butte, he scanned the countryside and made some calculations. If his senses weren't deceiving him, all he needed to do was turn to the southwest and the Triple F Ranch would stand directly in his path. To make certain of his position, Sean tied Whiskey to a cottonwood tree and hiked to the crest of the butte for a view of the horizon.

Focusing his vision due east, he spotted the red waters of the Verde River dead ahead. His calculations were, in his estimation, nearly perfect. With a somber grin of determination, Sean turned to collect the mule, but stopped when he heard the high-pitched screams of a woman in distress. Was the wind playing tricks on him? Whirling around, he cocked his head and listened intently.

Again, he heard the screams.

Shading his eyes from the noon sun, he looked out over the meadow just as a half-naked woman burst from the trees and shrubs near the water's edge. She ran headlong into the meadow, her long black hair streaming out behind her. Shortly after that, a man emerged from the same spot, his objective all too obvious.

"Sunny?" he
said,
his throat raspy and constricted. Even at this long distance there could be no mistaking his beloved sister. The statuesque appearance, the way she ran dodging the man, and the ribbons of ebony hair trailing down her back all belonged to Sunflower Callahan.

Sean dropped to the ground, the sour taste of hatred and vengeance rising in his throat, and slithered back through the cottonwoods to where Whiskey stood. He quickly removed his rifle from the scabbard,
then
crawled back to his vantage spot at the crest of the hill. Sunny's cries met his ears just as his vision picked out the man as he bore down on her. Bringing the gun to his shoulder, Sean struggled to frame the man in the rifle sights, but by now the pair struggled together as one, making it impossible to chance a shot. When they collapsed amongst the tall grass and weeds, Sean did the only thing he could do from so far away.

He fired a warning above the spot where they'd fallen.

Then he wheeled and raced for Whiskey. As he mounted and then whipped the mule into a dead run down the side of the hill, one thought blazed in his mind. This vile excuse for a man would pay, and pay dearly, for the pain and horror he'd put Sunny through. Her ordeal was at an end, as was the life of the rancher who now tried to defile her.

The crack of rifle fire brought Sunny's playful shrieks and high-pitched laughter to an abrupt end. She froze as Cole covered her body with his and admonished her to keep her silence.

With extreme wariness, he slowly lifted his head until he could just see past the tips of the grass to the crest of the nearby mountain. He scanned the rim, straining his eyes, but couldn't locate the source of the rifle fire.

"Stay flat on your belly," Cole cautioned. "I'm going to make a break for the river and my gun."

"No, you cannot."

"Don't move and be quiet. It may be our only chance."

With that, he turned on his knees and began to inch his way to the clearing, but an inhuman cry froze him to the spot. Again peering over the grass, he watched as a rider exploded from the brush at the base of the mountain and bore down on them at a thunderous gallop.

Quickly measuring his slim chances, the defenseless rancher coiled his long body for the jack-rabbit start he would need to reach the trees. But the minute his head appeared above the grass, the distant rifle fired another deadly warning. He dropped back to the earth, the fingers of unfamiliar panic closing around his throat. After a backward glance at Sunny, he knew her only chance was for him to move, and move now before the rider overtook them. His mind made up, Cole pulled his legs up beneath him and into a crouch just as the rider cut loose with another murderous war cry.

Something in the sound, the tone of voice, gave life to Sunny's dry throat. "Cole, wait."

She whirled around and grabbed at his boot just as he started to run through the grass. Her fingers closed over the heel and metal prongs of a spur, bruising her flesh, but still she hung on. Once again, Cole dropped to the ground.

"What the
hell
are you doing?" he raged as he tried unsuccessfully to get his balance. He turned, prepared to hurl a string of curses towards the foolish woman, when instead the words died in his throat. Sunny was standing upright, a full-sized target for the rapidly approaching rifleman.

"What is
wrong
with you?" Cole spat as he scrambled to his feet. "Get down, dammit." He took a couple of angry steps in her direction, but she dodged him, never taking her eyes off the rider. "Sunny, are you trying to get yourself killed?"

She could hear Cole's voice, but it sounded as if it were muffled and a long way off in the distance. Her incredulous eyes said her
brother
was riding towards her, and yet how could that be? He was in La Paz or Mohave, anywhere but here. She blinked several times,
then
stared at the horse, which turned out to be a mule, and its rider again, but her brain received the same message.
Sean and Whiskey.
Certain now that she did not behold a mirage, Sunny found her voice and turned to Cole.

"Do not worry," she whispered breathlessly.
"
Tis
my brother, Sean.
He will not harm us." Then she spun around, lifting her skirts, and ran through the grass to greet him.

Again the rifle
fired,
its message clear that the bullet was not meant for Sunny as it passed over her head and continued on towards its intended victim.

"No," she called as Whiskey skidded to a halt and Sean leapt from his back, the rifle cocked and ready for another blast.

Screaming in fright, begging him to stop, Sunny raised her arms in submission and charged toward her brother. But she was too late. The gun sounded again and this time, Cole Fremont spiraled down and disappeared in the thick grass.

Horrified, sick to her stomach, and angry all at once, Sunny cried out in a long wail, "
Nooooo
," then buried her face in her hands.

Sean dropped the rifle and pulled a pistol from his belt as he approached his anguished sister. "It's all right, Sunny. I'm here now," he assured as he slipped an arm around her shoulder for a brief hug. "Stay here a minute. I'll just be making sure he's dead."

"Take another step towards him," she warned through her tears, "and
ye'll
rue the day you were born."

Not giving him a chance to move another step, Sunflower grabbed her skirts as she wheeled and rushed to her fallen lover. There she dropped to the ground beside him, her heart breaking,
a
sob wrenching her throat. As she bent over him, searching for the wound, she wailed, "Oh, Cole, what has he done to you?"

"Not near as much as he had in mind," Cole whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Where the hell is he?"

"Oh, you
live,”

"So far I do." Cole raised his head a few notches and peered over her shoulder. "Good Lord, here he comes and he's got a pistol aimed at my head." He quickly flattened out in the grass again,
then
scowled at Sunny. "If that madman really is your brother, isn't there something you can do with him, like disarm him?"

So delighted to find Cole in good health, she'd nearly forgotten about the danger.
"Of course."

"Get out of the way little sis," Sean warned as Sunny jumped to her feet and turned to face him. Pulling back the hammer on the gun, he stood his ground and announced, "This son of a bitch is long overdue for his last breath."

"This son of a ... a
bitch,"
she bit off, using a word she'd only heard infrequently, but never used before.
"Saved my life.
Do you still wish to shoot him, my lizard-brained brother?"

Momentarily speechless at this information, Sean's anger and determination returned as he recalled the way he'd come across them. "You don't owe him for that, pumpkin. He may have saved your life, but I could see he had no intention of saving your honor.
For that alone, he dies."
Sean raised the pistol, his lip twitching as he eyed her disheveled appearance. "Get out of the way, Sunny."

"Never."
With a dramatic sigh, she flung herself, spread- eagle, across Cole's prone body. "If you wish to shoot him, your bullet will have to pierce Callahan flesh first."

"Sunny," Sean growled between his teeth. "You don't have to do this." And then a thought occurred to him, a delicate, disturbing thought, but one that had to be dealt with. "Look, pumpkin, if he’s done something to you, what's already happened doesn't matter. You can go on as before. No one will ever know if he's shamed you."

Convinced at first that silence would be his best weapon against Sean's anger until Sunny had a chance to explain, Cole now found he couldn't keep his tongue or let him think what he was thinking. He blurted out, "I would never shame her.
"

But Sunny had other ideas. She slapped her hand across Cole's mouth and narrowed her eyes. "Quiet, Fremont," she said under her breath, "they don't call Sean 'Crazy Callahan' for nothing. Let me handle him."

Thinking quickly, Sunny craned her head until she made eye contact with her enraged brother. She had to find a way to calm him, make him listen to what she had to say before he lost all control. "All right," she said with a composure she didn't feel. "I understand what you must do, but first let me tell you all that has happened. If you still think he must die, I will not stand in your way." She felt Cole's body stiffen beneath her at this, but he kept his silence. "Fair?"

Sean had never killed a man before. And this dog of a man was unarmed. A sense of relief flooded him as he thought over her suggestion. "All right, but I keep the gun on him while we talk."

"Fair enough."
Again Cole flinched, but Sunny went on with her instructions.
"Back off, Sean.
What I have to say must be said in private. Move to the edge of the meadow and I'll join you."

Against his better instincts, he did as she
asked,
knowing the only Callahan with a stubborn streak bigger than Patrick's now challenged him with a pair of determined indigo blue eyes.

When Sean was in place, Sunny whispered quickly, "Do not try to move or join us. I will explain the situation to him." Then she scrambled to her feet and hurried to her brother, careful to keep her body between the pistol and Cole.

"He can't hurt you anymore," Sean assured as he gathered her in his arms. "Say the word, and I'll take care of him."

Pushing back from his chest, Sunny vigorously shook her head. "You are not listening to me. He has done nothing to hurt or shame me. I have come to care for him a great deal."

"But—" Sean gestured towards her torn skirt, her immodest attire. "You are half-dressed and he has torn the clothing from your body. You wish me to spare a man who has ravaged you so?"

"My brother—" She stumbled over her words, worried about Sean's reaction. But she was a very poor liar and would telegraph the fib through her eyes if she should try any explanation but the truth. With an anxious sigh, Sunny lifted her chin and stared into the features that so closely resembled her own. "Cole Fremont has never shamed me or forced me to do anything I did not wish to do." A sudden pride burned in her as she added, "I am his woman."

"His
woman
?"
Sean said with a harsh laugh. "Have you forgotten you are Quechan, a half-breed, little one? You cannot be the woman of a white man. If you are anything to this snake, it can be nothing more than his
puta
."