Sagebrush Bride (47 page)

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Authors: Tanya Anne Crosby

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical

BOOK: Sagebrush Bride
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Arrogant
and infuriating as the man was, he’d somehow squeezed himself into the heart
she’d thought long dead. For so long she’d been careful not to let
anyone—not anyone—into her life, because then she wouldn’t have to
suffer the pain of their leaving.

With
Cutter... the risk had seemed worth taking. It didn’t matter what he was. It
never had, she realized in that moment. And if she ever got the chance again,
she’d make him see that, too.

Dear
God, she loved him!

Her
heart began to pound, and she became instantly alert, fully aware of her
surroundings, every rustle of grass. She stifled the urge to cry out his name,
sensing his presence. She could almost smell him in the slight breeze, but
could see nothing.

With
no moon, the darkness was impenetrable.

Chapter
Twenty Eight

 

Elizabeth’s heart nearly flew out of her breast
when warm fingers brushed her leg unexpectedly. Stifling a cry of panic, she
lay as still as she was able, afraid to wake Katie.

Please, oh, please be Cutter, she implored
silently. Dear God, what if it wasn’t? What if it was Colyer?

She couldn’t bear it. It had to be Cutter! Why
didn’t he speak? Well, of course she knew why he didn’t speak! she scolded
herself hysterically. Sweet heaven above!

Awkwardly the hand groped about her lower legs,
feeling for something, and then finding it, halted at the thick rope that
lashed her feet together. With bated breath she waited, listening to the sound
the knife made as it sawed through the rope.

At last there was a final rent and her legs fell
free, numb but liberated.

Her heart pounding without mercy, she watched, her
eyes wide, as the shadow crept up to her face... so close that she could hear
the breath between them... but the darkness was too thick.

She couldn’t make out the face.

“Ma’am?” the voiced called out softly.

Elizabeth recoiled from it instantly. It wasn’t
Cutter! her mind shrieked. Oh God—it wasn’t! In that moment she felt as
close to madness as she had ever been in her life. She must have made some
terrified sound, because in the next moment, a hand slipped tightly over her
mouth, trapping a scream in her throat.

“Ma’am? It’s me, Jacob O’Neill. Don’t scream. I
won’t hurt ya—” O’Neill’s words were cut off abruptly as the barrel of a
rifle slammed into his back.

“Damned right you won’t, Blue-boy!” came a
seething whisper.

Hearing Cutter’s drawl at last, Elizabeth felt her
heart slam against her breast. She swallowed, unable to speak momentarily for
the emotions that welled within her. Relief. Joy. Anger! Why had it taken him
so long?

 

“I’d sooner see you in hell,” Cutter continued.
Despite the fact that his strength was exhausted, and his body was staggering
on the brink of hell itself, his voice sounded hard. “Now, get those hands up
where I can see ‘em,” he said through his teeth.

O’Neill’s hand went up slowly, moonlight glinting
off the knife as it ascended. “I was gonna let her go, mister—I swear it!
If ya’d but come a second later, ya’d have heard me say so. I was aboot to cut
her hands free, is all... S-Still will... if y’ll let me?”

A chill silence met his declaration, and he went
on without being prompted. “Mister,” he advised in a nervous whisper. “If I’m
gonna set her free, we’re gonna hafta hurry, ‘cause my watch’ll be over in
another twenty minutes.” Still, only silence met him. “If ya ain’t gonna let
me,” O’Neill continued, swallowing with difficulty, “then ya might as well put
a bullet in ma back now, ‘cause Sulzberger will, if you don’t. If not him,
Colyer then—he don’t like you too much on account of you slicing his
ear.”

“Some folks have no sense of humor at all,” Cutter
remarked so softly that it sent a chill down Elizabeth’s spine. “Pity that.
I’d’ve thought he was chock-full of it.”

He don’t
like you too much on account of you slicing his ear,
Elizabeth heard again.
She shivered at the subdued violence in Cutter’s answer—that and the fact
that their exchange triggered a memory—the day she’d asked him why his
horse had only half a right ear.

“Someone’s idea of a practical joke,” his voice
echoed in her ear. “... Don’t reckon the man’s laughing any longer... . Just
went a little too far in trying to provoke me, is all.”

“What did you do to him?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Her shoulders trembled faintly at the conclusion
she drew, while at her breast, Katie began to stir, whimpering softly in her
sleep.

“All right,” Cutter agreed abruptly, jabbing
O’Neill in the back once more. “Cut her loose, then.”

“Yes, sir!” Jacob reached for Elizabeth
immediately, almost eagerly. “Think ya can sit up for me, ma’am?”

Elizabeth nodded briskly, and then realizing he
couldn’t see her gesture, she said, “I think so... ” And she tried, but her
lack of arms to use for balance, along with Katie’s weight, brought her back
down. She rolled slightly atop of Katie, waking her with a start. At once Katie
began to whimper behind her gag.

“Shush, sweetheart,” Elizabeth whispered
frantically. “Cutter’s here to take us home now. Don’t cry.” While she soothed
Katie, Jacob helped her sit upright and immediately began to carve into the
rope that bound her hands at her back.

“Be real still, now, ma’am... wouldn’t want ta cut
ya... Just another—”

From somewhere within the darkness, gunfire
erupted without warning. O’Neill’s remark ended with a gurgle and a choke as a
bullet struck his windpipe. Elizabeth screamed as he slumped forward, into her,
bringing her down under his weight. Katie screeched in terror, and Elizabeth
reached for her instinctively, snapping the last frazzled thread of rope in her
panic. Within seconds, another bullet whizzed by. And then another, striking
the ground to her right. Recoiling from it, Elizabeth cried out in panic,
trying to free herself and Katie from O’Neill’s dead weight. He was too heavy!

“O’Neill—y’ double-crossin’ bastard!” came
Magnus’ sleep-hoarse voice.

With a savage war cry, Cutter thrust O’Neill’s
body off Elizabeth.

Elizabeth automatically fumbled for the boy’s
body, trying to reach him, to help him—drag him to safety at least. Her
duty—the motions so inbred that she didn’t immediately think of her own
safety, or even Katie’s.

Another shot whined overhead, coming from the
opposite direction this time, and somewhere she heard feet scattering for
cover. “Help me, Cutter—he’s hurt!”

 

“Not hurt!” he snapped. “Dead! Now get a move on,
Doc!” Cutter seized her by the hair, jerking her backward without apologies.
“Chrissakes, woman,” he snarled when she resisted. “Can’t fix this one either!
Let go!” Coming near to dragging her, he withdrew deeper into the night,
pulling Elizabeth up by her waist when he could, trying not to harm Katie as he
dragged them both behind a small boulder, barely sufficient for cover. Above
them, bullets sang. One struck the stone, ricocheting into the darkness.

Cutter drew his Colt out of his gun belt and
pressed it into Elizabeth’s hand. “Stay low and shoot straight!” he demanded.
“Gotta untie Katie.”

“B-But I—I can’t see!” Elizabeth gasped, her
hand as shaky as her voice. “I can’t see to shoot!”

“Chrissakes!” Cutter reached out and pointed the
gun in the general direction he intended for Elizabeth to fire, and then, in
the same fluid motion, withdrew his knife from his boot, nudging Elizabeth when
she didn’t immediately obey. “Just squeeze the damned trigger!”

Another volley of shots whizzed overhead, but
Elizabeth could no longer tell whether they were coming or going. She froze.
“A-Anywhere?” she asked frantically, her fingers shaking violently.

“Anywhere but at me!” Cutter shot back, shoving
her head down without warning. “If y’ can’t see—don’t bother looking.
Just keep the gun steady and squeeze the trigger.” At her back, he quickly
found and slashed at the rope between Katie’s wrists, freeing her arms from
around Elizabeth’s neck, then her feet. Jerking her from Elizabeth’s hold with
a muttered curse, he removed the gag from Katie’s mouth and urged the child
onto all fours. He shoved Elizabeth down again when her head came up too high,
and belatedly it occurred to him that she hadn’t yet fired a single shot. He
nudged her, hard. “Shoot!”

 

Having freed Katie, Cutter turned, surging upward
against the boulder. Aiming his carbine straight into the night, he fired,
reloading at once. His ears straining to pick up the sounds he needed, he fired
again, repeating the process with calm proficiency. Then again, reloading as
swiftly as he fired. Hampered as he was by his dull-as-ditchwater senses, and
the lack of light to see by, Cutter was surprised when a grunt of pain ensued.
But he smiled into the darkness and fired again.

Elizabeth squeezed her own trigger. As she fired a
shot, another bullet struck the boulder, splintering rock and then ricocheting,
interring itself into the ground nearby.

“Katie,” Cutter said, his voice tortured, turning
to catch her by the arm. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Things weren’t going quite as he’d planned. Hell,
he’d hoped Elias would get back before he was forced to go in. But he’d heard
Elizabeth whimpering, and had reacted purely on instinct.

Terrified as she was, Katie’s head bobbed once in
acknowledgment as she responded with the anticipated trust of a child.

Cutter felt the gesture more than he saw it.
Relief washed over him, because he sure as hell needed her trust. “Good girl!”
he said, while his mind groped for a solution. He’d forgotten Elizabeth
couldn’t see distances. It only stood to reason she’d be blind as a bat at
night. He’d planned to send her along with Katie, covering their backs while
they ran for safety, but Elizabeth would likely lead them straight to hell that
way. No, Katie was better off without her. Thing was, he wasn’t about to leave
Elizabeth stranded, either—not knowing which way to run when the time
came. If he left her now... he wasn’t certain he could make it back. He felt
trapped between the devil and the deep sea.

He shook his mind clear and gripped Katie’s hand
firmly. “All right now, Katie. Listen to me... I want you to
crawl—straight as you can—fast as you can. I... ” Hell, he had no
choice. He couldn’t let her go unprotected. “I’ll be right behind you,” he
relented, his gut twisting.

Katie nodded again, but her little body tensed,
and Cutter ruffled her curls in reassurance.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he repeated. Overhead,
shots waned momentarily, then stopped for an instant, and Cutter shoved. “Go!”
he hissed.

Katie scurried over the ground as quickly as her
little hands and feet could carry her, and it was all Cutter could do to keep
up.

 

It took Elizabeth a terrified moment to realize
what had happened, that she was alone. But the instant she did, fright struck
like cold steel into her heart. Desperately she tried to keep the panic from
clutching her by the throat, smothering her breath. Her heart hammered with
fear as she squeezed off the last shots in her revolver. But even before the
last click, Cutter materialized from the darkness to seize the gun from her
hands, as though he’d anticipated it. He resheathed it, and then jerked her
down to her knees as another round of lead immediately flew over their heads.

Keeping low to the ground, Cutter led the way,
jerking Elizabeth forward each time she lagged behind, the touch of his hand
clammy on her arm. Finally, ducking bullets, they reached a much larger
boulder. “Katie?” Cutter whispered as he dragged Elizabeth behind it.

Katie mumbled something unintelligible, and Cutter
immediately rose against the boulder, leaving Elizabeth to do her part. She
searched out Katie in the darkness, railing her name softly. With a frightened
little whimper, Katie plunged into her arms, and Elizabeth urged her to keep
silent.

The darkness was a mixed blessing—hiding
them but shielding the men who fired on them. As the moments lengthened,
gunfire became more sporadic, each side thinking to conserve ammo, each side
aiming to win.

It was with relief that Elizabeth sensed the
coming of daylight. As the first pink streaks of dawn stretched across the
brightening sky, she huddled close to Katie, trying to cause the least possible
distraction. Watching Cutter intently, she soothed the child, ran fingers
through her curls, rocked her.

Her heart lurched as Cutter wavered suddenly on
his feet.

 

Blinking hard, Cutter shook his head to fight away
the darkness. In spite of the fact that night was waning, shadows were
beginning to converge in his mind, closing in swiftly. There was no doubt about
it now. He’d fought it off as long as he could.

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