*
Annabelle was spitting mad at that crazy Beau. He’d ridden right into their trap, and from watching above, she could tell that was exactly what it had been, a snare. They’d been waiting for him. Sure, they had known the general vicinity the money was hidden in, but how had they been able to pinpoint the location so well?
Still, for him to go down there, knowing there was a chance they were waiting on him, infuriated her. When they were out of this mess, she was going to show him her displeasure.
Why were men so confident, so sure they could conquer the world and then were surprised when they got into trouble? She’d seen it with her father, Meg’s lover Zach, and now with Beau.
Darkness had fallen as she watched the outlaws sitting around their campfire eating supper. Her stomach rumbled, and she longed to eat a good meal—a sit down at a table meal, where she wasn’t worried about getting killed.
Beau sat with the gang, but they’d tied his wrists and legs together. He was trussed up worse than a Thanksgiving turkey.
She checked her weapon one more time and felt to make sure she had her extra bullets in her pocket. Her horse was on top of the ridge, hidden in some trees, waiting on her.
Why hadn’t they killed Beau? He must not have given them the money to still be alive. Which meant that any moment now William was going to start torturing him. She knew he would. She’d overheard that promise several nights ago, and she couldn’t stomach the thought.
Inching down the embankment, she had to get closer to the five outlaws. She needed to be within thirty to forty yards for her shots to be accurate. These shots had to happen quickly, or they could kill Beau before she was finished. And she had to be precise with every shot.
When she was within range, she waited to see what would happen, looking for the best opportunity to take them out one by one.
Finally, William stood. He had been whittling on a stick, making a pointed end on it, while the other men finished their dinner. Now, he placed the stick in the fire.
A chill trickled down Annabelle’s spine. She didn’t feel good about that stick and it being in the fire. She checked her gun one more time.
William walked to where Beau was sitting. “Where’s the money, Beau?”
She watched as Beau took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
William doubled up his fist and struck Beau in the face, knocking him over. One of the men sat Beau back up and pulled the stick out of the fire. The tip was glowing bright red.
“We’ll start slowly. But if you don’t tell me where the money is, this stick is going in your eye.”
Annabelle felt her heart pounding in her chest. Before she could pull out her gun, William stuck the stick in Beau’s arm. She watched him struggle against his ropes.
She couldn’t watch. She couldn’t take this anymore. She knew what William was going to do with that stick, and she couldn’t watch him hurt Beau.
Lifting her six-shooter, she took aim and fired. The man sitting next to Beau tumbled over. She fired again and another man went down. The rest of them were running, scattering. Three more to go.
William grabbed Beau and shielded himself behind Beau’s body. She should have killed him first.
A rifle fired toward her, its muzzle flashing fire in the night. She aimed her gun and heard a muffled cry as the third man went down. The bushes rustled near her.
“I’m going to kill him if you don’t come out,” William cried.
Gosh, darn it, but she should have killed William first.
A man jumped out of the bushes and charged her. She shot him. Four down, one to go. But William had Beau.
“Get your ass down here now, or he’s dead,” William screamed.
“No,” Beau yelled back. “Run.”
She stood. She couldn’t let him shoot Beau. She had to go down there. She pulled out her petticoat pistol and tucked it in the back of the waistband of her skirt.
“Come out with your hands up now. If you’re not here on the count of four, he’s dead.”
Crap
. Slowly, she made her way down the hill. He couldn’t see her, and she watched him staring into the darkness. This could work to her advantage.
As she stepped out into the glow of the fire, he stared at her.
“Where’s the shooter?” he asked, lowering his gun.
She laughed out loud. Why were men so stupid? He didn’t believe she had shot his gang. Well, she would make a believer of him.
“I’m the shooter,” she said and whipped the gun out from behind her, putting a bullet in his forehead before he had a chance to pull the trigger on Beau. William’s body slumped to the ground, and Beau stood, staring at her in disbelief.
“Damn, woman, you don’t know how to obey!” Beau said, his face red with rage. “Didn’t I tell you to ride off if they captured me?”
She turned and started to walk away.
“Hey, where are you going? Untie me.”
“Why should I, you ungrateful snot? I’m going for the horses, and then I’m taking you and all these dead outlaws in.”
“Untie me.”
“No. You’re my prisoner.”
“Like hell.”
She turned and glanced back at him. “You didn’t appreciate me saving you.”
Hurt filled her as she watched him take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, Annabelle. But good Lord, woman, you scare me. Do you know how frightened I was for you when you came out of the darkness? I was so scared he was going to put a bullet in you. I couldn’t have lived with the knowledge that I’d caused your death.”
For a moment, she let his words wash over her. They were nice and they left her feeling warm. “Do you believe I can shoot a gun?”
He laughed. “Sugar, yes, you definitely have a way with a pistol. Remind me not to get in a shooting match with you.”
She smiled. “That’s better. You wait here. I’ll be back.”
She walked away from the campfire and hurried toward her horse. No, she wouldn’t leave him tied up, but it would do him good to be left alone, unable to do anything until she returned and cut him loose.
Let him stew for a little while and think about how she’d just saved his ornery hide.
B
eau sat back down on the hard cold ground, waiting for Annabelle to return, hoping she would. Okay, he’d handled that like a jackass, but he’d been so frightened for her safety he’d been unable to breathe. Even now his heart was racing like a jackrabbit being chased by a wolf. And that’s what he’d been, the jackrabbit about to be served up to those cold-blooded thugs, until Annabelle had picked them off one by one.
She hadn’t missed a shot, and when she’d come out of the darkness, her hands by her sides without a gun, he’d thought for sure they were both goners. He’d thought they were both going to be pushing up bluebonnets. But once again, this woman who astounded him, who intrigued him, had shown him her tough side.
He couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen a faster shooter. She could draw quicker than a man could spit and say howdy, shooting William right between the eyes. Better than any gunfighter he’d ever seen.
A woman. His Annabelle.
Well, she wasn’t his, though, damn it, she’d be a great woman to have by his side. She was soft as a cloud on the outside and tough as nails on the inside, and she smelled like pure heaven.
And her kisses could send him to the moon and back. They packed a kick better than alcohol and were mighty tasty.
She walked back into the glow of the campfire, pulling her horse behind her. After she’d tied the animal, she strolled over to Beau and gazed at him, her sapphire eyes flashing with anger.
God, he’d screwed up badly. And now he had to eat crow, unless he wanted to remain tied up. “Look, I’m sorry. Thank you for what you did. I appreciate it, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it any better. But I was so afraid for you. The thought of one of them killing or hurting you scared me worse than a green bronco in a thunderstorm. You’re a damn fine shot.”
She smiled. “That’s fancy talk for a man with a rope around his feet and ankles.”
“I was only trying to protect you.”
Couldn’t she understand that he couldn’t live with himself if he caused her death? And he’d been so frightened. He’d accepted that he was going to die, but not Annabelle.
“I can take care of myself,” she said, standing defiantly before him. “Turn around, I’ll untie you.”
“Thanks.”
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
“My father gave us lessons, but mainly it was just practice. I’d come home from the restaurant and practice aiming at tin cans that I drew characters on to look like my customers. Let’s just say the worst customers were always on the fence, being gunned down.”
Her knife cut through the knots. He shook out his hands, letting the blood rush back in. He’d thought he was going to die with those ropes around his wrist. He’d thought his life was over.
“Like I said, I’m accurate up to about fifty yards.”
With a yank, he pulled out his own knife and cut through the ropes binding his legs. He hated being tied up. He hated the feeling of helplessness that there was nothing he could do.
“Why didn’t you leave me?” he asked. “That’s what I told you to do.”
“And I told you I couldn’t. Could you have gone off and left me?” she asked.
“You know I wouldn’t.”
Standing, the blood flowed back into his legs and feet. He started to walk and for just a second had no feeling in his left foot. Annabelle caught him with her hands and steadied him.
God, this woman had saved his butt once again.
He grabbed her and planted his lips over hers. His mouth plundered hers, greedily consuming her, drinking from her, needing her like his next breath. He sampled her mouth, sweeping his tongue across her full bottom lip.
His hands grabbed her face, slanting her mouth for a deeper exploration. One hand tangled in her hair, bringing her closer, needing her even more.
How could he live with himself if she’d died protecting him?
He kissed her hard, his mouth pummeling hers. His lips moving over hers, like he was starving. He pulled her body firm against his own, needing her close, needing to feel her heart beating beneath his.
Why this woman? Why this woman had crawled beneath his skin and tangled with his heart was something he couldn’t answer. He wasn’t good for her. He wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved so much more than a cowboy with a well-known lawless family.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him closer, holding on while his lips drank from her mouth. He imbibed from her greedily, consuming her with a pleasure he had long denied himself. Her hands urged him on, pulling him tighter as she moaned deep in her throat.
Suddenly, she went stiff beneath him and shoved him away with all her might. “No,” she gasped, stepping out of his arms. “No.”
He took a deep steadying breath and released it slowly, while running his through his hair, watching her. She was touching her lips, staring at him, like a trapped animal.
“No,” she repeated. “We can’t.”
He nodded. “It’s just…if you…had gone off like I told you, I’d be dead. Thank you for not listening to me.”
Taking another step back, her chest rose and fell, her breathing harsh as she stared at him, her sapphire eyes radiating heat and need. “You’re welcome.”
“And,” he said, releasing a deep breath, “I won’t ever doubt your skills with a gun again.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. After all that excitement, I think we should eat.” They needed something to occupy themselves with or else he would find his lips on hers once again.
She glanced around at the dead men lying on the edge of the campfire, where she’d shot them. “If you don’t mind, could we get rid of these bodies? They’re kind of making me feel a little nauseous.”
He chuckled. “Sure.”
While he dragged the bodies into the darkness, she took out their meager supplies and rummaged through what the outlaws no longer needed. Soon, she had a nice meal going over the warm fire.
When Beau came back, he washed his hands in the river then walked into the glow of the firelight. “That smells delicious.”
“It’s beef jerky stew.”
“You’re spoiling me. When we reach Fort Worth, I’m not going to have you to cook for me any longer.”
There was nothing to stop them from reaching Fort Worth. Nothing to keep her from turning him in and putting him in jail. Nothing.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Why did she feel like he was the only man who had ever really understood her? Why with Beau did she feel at ease sitting around the campfire? And after today, he appreciated the fact she could handle a gun just as well as a man.
She’d never felt so comfortable with another human being, not even her sisters, like she did with Beau and that tore her up inside. He walked on the wrong side of the law. There was no way they could be together, and he’d shown no signs of wanting her, other than sexually.
With a sigh, she steeled her heart against the feelings she could feel flowing through her. The memory of William standing over Beau with that blazing hot stick in his hand and her fearing he would poke out his eyes or something drastic squeezed her heart.
Fear gripped her insides and twisted them. She couldn’t fall in love with this man. She just couldn’t. She’d never been in love, never had a boyfriend, never been kissed until Beau. And now she was frightened of her feelings.
This man understood her, respected her, and was even starting to believe she was a capable woman who could take care of herself. But she could also be soft and vulnerable with Beau, and she’d never been able to be that way before.
He made her feel like a cherished woman, and that’s what scared her more than anything. All her childhood dreams of a husband and children, he evoked and rekindled. Dreams she had since given up. At twenty, she was considered an old maid.
Beau stood and walked down to the river, where he rinsed his dinner plate. “That was a great dinner.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“You’re spoiling me. Once we reach Fort Worth, I’ll have a hard time adjusting back to the trail food I'm used to eating.”