Chapter 34

34

T he sound of gunfire continued on the other side of his tree, but Gideon squeezed his eyes against the noise. Then he heard a cry, a man in pain. Had they turned the guns on each other? He peeked around the rough bark to get a look.

Walters had turned in the wagon so he faced toward the front, but his firearm was nowhere in sight. Jenson was curled into himself, arms wrapped around his stomach. And strangest of all, Ashe had set down his rifle and raised both hands over his head.

Gideon shifted his gaze forward to a vision he'd never imagined. Ol' Mose stood in the road, a short, stubby gun in his hand. He fired a last round over the heads of those in the wagon, then lowered the firearm.

"There, ye varmints. Keep yer hands out where I kin see ‘em. You, too, Goliath."

Jenson groaned as he unwrapped his hands from around his abdomen and raised them toward the sky. Pain twisted his already ugly face.

A movement in the back of the wagon caught Gideon's attention. Walters had one hand raised in obedience to Ol' Mose's command, but the other was stretching toward a rifle just a few feet away.

"Don't move." Gideon barked the command as he left the woods and sprinted toward the back of the wagon. He kept his gun loosely pointed in Walters's direction, until he could move far enough over so Leah wouldn't be in front of his bullet. He hadn't let himself look at her yet. He would lose all the focus he needed to keep on these criminals.

Walters must have thought his loose aim was an open door, because in a quick movement, he jerked forward to grab the rifle. Gideon shot without allowing himself to think. Walters dropped the rifle and screamed as he reached for his right shoulder.

"There's more where that came from if you can't follow directions." Gideon ground out the words while he kept the Colt focused on the man. The scoundrel didn't need to know there wasn't any more where that had come from. He was out of bullets.

Walters moaned as he leaned back against the side of the wagon, gripping his shoulder still.

"I think they're understandin' things a mite better now," said Ol' Mose, still holding a gun on the two men in the front of the wagon. "Why don't ya see if ya can find some rope to tie ‘em up? If ya don't find it in their wagon, I've got some in mine just over yonder hill." He nodded behind him where the road disappeared over a knoll.

Still keeping his empty revolver on the moaning Walters, Gideon finally turned to look at Leah. She sat in that rough wagon like a princess—a disheveled one, but no less beautiful. Her hair had pulled completely free of its pins, but her eyes shimmered. "You okay?" He hated the quaver in his voice, but he couldn't control the reaction that flooded him at the sight of her.

"I'm fine." Her voice flowed out like music, a little breathless, but the perfect melody. His chest might just explode from the emotions whirling through him.

Yet her hands and feet were still bound.

With his left hand, he pulled out his hunting knife and moved toward Leah, keeping a wary eye on the wounded man beside her. "Let me cut your ropes." He kept his voice soft, his words meant only for her.

He took his gaze from Walters long enough to slice the rope around Leah's wrists. Raw flesh glared at him before she flipped her sleeves down. A flood of anger swept through him.

"I can cut the rope at my ankles, just let me hold your knife." Leah must have seen his expression, or else she wanted him to focus on pointing the gun at the men.

Either way, he relinquished the antler handle of his hunting knife and reached forward to grab Walters's rifle. He holstered his own pistol and aimed the Winchester at the man.

As soon as Leah cut the rope around her ankles, she stretched her legs forward and rubbed her wrists.

Time to get her away from the danger. "Leah, get out of the wagon and come over here."

He stepped back ten feet, and waited for her to hobble to him. "I want you to hold this gun on Walters while I tie him up. Hold it just like I showed you, and don't be afraid to shoot him if he moves. Just pretend you're hunting, and he's a deer." Gideon said the last part loud enough for all the men to hear, even though Leah had never actually shot a deer. What the men didn't know could only help him.

As she took the rifle from him, her hands shook. Her face wore a mixture of fear and uncertainty, but also a fierce determination. He gave her an encouraging smile and brushed her upper arm with his hand. "You'll be fine." And she would. She was the bravest woman he'd ever met.

It took a few minutes to get all three men tied securely and loaded in the bed of the wagon. Ol' Mose and Leah both kept their guns aimed until he had the ruffians settled. The minute that was done, Gideon strode to Leah and took the gun from her hands.

For a moment, he drank her in. There were so many things he wanted to do and say, but what first? She made the decision for him when she flew into his arms, wrapping herself around him like a leaf blown against a tree trunk. It was what he'd wanted her to do, and he clutched her with all of his might.

He breathed in the sweet scent of her, savoring the feel of her wrapped in the shelter of his body. He'd come so close to losing her for good. What would he do if he'd lost her? Moisture burned his eyes, but he closed them against the sensation.

They stood there for several moments, and he would have gladly stayed like that all day, holding Leah, gently stroking her shoulders. But she finally leaned back in his arms, turning her beautiful face up to him.

"Thank you." She spoke the words softly, as if handing him a gift.

He swallowed the knot in his chest.

A throat cleared not too far away from them. He hated to, but he turned away from Leah to face Ol' Mose, keeping an arm around her waist. There was no way he was letting her get away again, whether his friend was standing there or not.

"Wooo-wee!" The old man's face split into a toothy grin. "Weren't it somethin' the way God took care o' that little mess?"

The words caught Gideon off guard. "God?"

"Yessiree. Jest when you was outnumbered three to one, I got to be the army of angels to fight off the Midianites."

What in the world was he rambling about? Poor ol' fellow must finally be losing it. "Been out in the sun too long, have ya, old man?"

Ol' Mose gave him a look full of mystery, like he knew a secret. "I'm talkin' about yer namesake from the Bible, son."

Then the man's gaze drifted to Leah and a fatherly smile touched his face. "What say you two young folks drive this wagon of vermin into town, and I'll follow in my rig with me ol' Blunderbuss trained on ‘em."

Gideon nodded. "Is that what that thing is? I've never seen a gun quite like it."

Mose held the squatty gun out like a royal crown. "Yep, my pa passed it down to me, and it's served me well all these years. It sprays lead so it's not so good fer huntin' dinner, but awful good fer huntin' scoundrels like these." He gestured toward the three men tied in the wagon.

"Let's get 'em back to the sheriff then." Gideon kept his arm around Leah's tiny waist as they moved to the front seat of the wagon. She fit so perfectly next to him. He lifted her up, then climbed beside her while she scrambled over to make room. She didn't go very far, though. Good thing.

He gathered the reins in one hand, flicked them to move the horses forward, then slipped his arm back around Leah.

Leah would have been content to ride nestled under Gideon's arm until the wagon drove off the face of the earth. Her hands had finally stopped shaking, but her muscles still hadn't regained their strength.

"You up to tellin' me what happened?"

The vibrato of Gideon's voice rumbled against her ear, sending a purr of contentment through her. She drew in a deep breath, then released it in an unsteady whoosh. A little of the tension left her chest with the spent air. At last, her mind drifted back to the beginning of the terror.

"I was on my way to inquire about a job, but Mr. Jenson gave me bad directions." She told about the run-down part of town she'd been sent to, and Gideon asked several questions about the specific location.

"When I woke up, I was already in the cave. It was so dark and cold, and they kept me tied and gagged the whole time."

Gideon's shoulder tensed under her cheek. "They didn't…hurt you or…anything else, did they?"

She knew what he was asking. She pushed the memories back. "No, they didn't touch me like that. The other men wanted to, but Jenson kept saying the boss wanted me clean." She snuggled deeper into Gideon, and he wrapped his arm tighter.

"Did they say who the boss was?" His voice held a touch of steel, like he was trying to keep it corralled.

"Simon." If the man had been there, she would have spat in his face.

"The man you were going to marry?"

"Yes." Was that bitter voice really hers?

His thumb stroked her side, and the coarse stubble on his chin brushed her forehead as his lips touched her skin. "I'm sorry, love. I won't let him hurt you again."

Snuggled under his protective arm, she could almost believe him.

They rode that way for several minutes while her nerves eased. A few buildings appeared ahead, and soon the town filled in around them. Gideon seemed to know where he was going, though, and the wagon soon pulled to a stop in front of a single-story block building. It had bars on the windows, and the hand-painted sign overhead proclaimed it as the sheriff's office.

Gideon climbed from the wagon and reached for her with both hands. "We can go in and talk to the sheriff first. He'll probably send someone out to get these three."

She gripped Gideon's shoulders and allowed him to lift her down. The craving to lean into his chest and feel his strength around her again was so powerful, she had to grip the side of the wagon to hold herself back.

With a hand at the small of her back, he guided her around the horses and up the few stairs to the wood door. He stuck his head in the building first, then steered her inside. It had been so long since she'd been able to simply follow—have someone else lead and make decisions and do all the talking.

She allowed him to take over now, speaking to the sheriff, relaying the day's events—including the run-in he'd apparently had with Jenson the night before. She didn't have to say much until the end, when the sheriff turned his bushy gray brows on her.

"And, Miss Townsend, do you have any idea why these men kidnapped you?"

She hated this part of the story, but it had to be told. Nodding, she summoned moisture into her dry mouth and started from the beginning—the point when her father signed a contract to marry her off to seal a business partnership with Simon Talbert, the owner of the largest oil distillery in the southeast.

It felt good, really, telling her side of the story at last. She'd not even told Gideon or Miriam all the details before now. A glance at Gideon as she finished, though, revealed a firm jaw and a prominent blue vein running down his temple.

"If you need to confirm my story, Sheriff, you can wire my father's steward in Richmond." She paused. "I'd rather you not do that unless you must, though. I'm sure Simon knows I'm in Butte City from his friends, but I'd rather not open the possibility for any more information about me to get back to him."

"I don't think that'll be necessary. I should be able to get what I need from the sheriff in Richmond. He'll be takin' Talbert into custody soon, I'm sure."

He turned to another man sitting behind the wood desk. "Tommy, you wanna help me get these jailbirds unloaded?"

The sheriff turned and reached for his hat from a peg on the wall.

Leah spoke up. "You'll be needing a doctor for them. All three men have bullet wounds, and Mr. Walters has an arrow in his leg."

The sheriff turned to her with one brow arched. "I'm afraid that won't matter, ma'am. There's not a doctor within four hours ride of here. We'll take care of ‘em, though."

Leah froze, her mind flashing back to the blood oozing from Jenson's shoulder. "But they need medical care. Are you trained to sterilize wounds and stop bleeding?"

The man shrugged. "No formal training, but we've had plenty of practice." With that, he settled his hat on his head and left the building with the man Tommy close on his heels.