Authors: Maureen Child
"Didn't say I was." Dave shook his head slowly, his gaze sweeping over his wounded partner momentarily. "You'd only slow me down, though. Between me and Jesse, we can get the bastard before he makes off with Miranda permanent."
“You expect me to just sit and wait while you go after 'em?"
“No.” Dave's voice shook with his effort to maintain his patience. “I expect you to go find that damn buckboard, load Buck onto it, and get him to the town doctor. We been ridin' together too long for me to let him die because you're too goddamn stubborn to see the right of things!"
Birdwell glanced behind him at the man lying so still on the ground. He pulled a deep breath into his lungs then blew it out quickly. "Shit." His shoulders slumped, lie looked back at Dave. "All right. I won't leave a man to die out here in the desert and I reckon it's your right to go after Forbes."
Dave relaxed a bit but remained ready in case the big man changed his mind.
“But” — Birdwell raised one hand and jabbed his index finger in the air toward Dave — “if harm comes to my girl, Ranger or no Ranger, you got me to deal with."
The younger man nodded then turned to face Shelly. She stepped into the circle of his arms and he held her tightly. In all the years he'd ridden for the Rangers, Dave had never known the fear he'd tasted that morning. Silently he thanked whoever was lookin' out for him in heaven for keeping Shelly safe.
She tilted her head back and pulled his mouth down to hers firmly. Their lips met in a long, frantic kiss and Dave would have liked to stay that way forever, but Shelly finally pulled away. She ran one hand down the length of his jaw and forced a sad smile.
“You go on. Me and Birdwell will see to Buck."
“I know that."
"Go careful, Dave. That Forbes man is out of his head. And I didn't like the look in Jesse's eyes when he took off out of here, either."
Dave nodded and turned for his horse. Once astride the tired animal, he looked down at her and grinned. "Don't you worry. We'll see you in town. All of us."
The horse reared up when Dave pulled on the reins, and before she could say a word, man and horse were racing away.
"Ranger, huh?"
She turned and looked at Birdwell.
"Hell, I must be gettin' old." He stared after Dave for a long minute. “Not too many years ago I used to be able to smell the law more'n a mile off." He frowned, disgusted at himself, then climbed aboard his own horse. “I’ll be back directly with that wagon, Shelly. You have Buck ready."
Shelly nodded absently, and as Birdwell started off down the trail she crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself tightly. Miranda. Jesse. Buck. Dave.
So many lives twisting in the hot desert wind. And everything had happened so quickly. Almost too quickly for her to take it all in. A familiar sound reached her then. She shook her head and turned to watch the approaching riders. Somehow she wasn't even surprised to see the Sully boys heading toward her.
#
They'd been walking for what seemed forever. Carrying double, the horse had tired quickly, and the only way to rest it was for its passengers to walk for a while. Miranda shoved at her hair and tried to take a step farther away from Forbes. He pulled her back close then let his hand drop.
The man didn't seem concerned about anyone following them, but Miranda was sure Jesse and Birdwell would be coming soon. And the longer they walked, the more time it gave her rescuers the chance to catch up.
She risked a glance at Tom Forbes, then quickly looked away again. It was all she could do to walk beside him. She still couldn't believe that he'd killed her father to get to her. And the way he'd said it. As though it was expected. As though killing Judd Perry had meant no more to him than shooting a stock raiding coyote.
A shudder coursed through her and she clenched her jaws tightly. She couldn't help her father, but if she could only think, maybe she could help Birdwell and Jesse. From the corner of her eye Miranda tried to study the surrounding desert. Anxiously she searched for something that she could either hide behind or use as a weapon against Forbes. But there was nothing.
She tilted her head back and stared up at the hot, glassy sky. Afternoon already. Thoughts of Buck and Shelly swam before her tired eyes and she prayed that help had reached them in time.
"Want some water?"
She glared up at Forbes and shook her head at the canteen he held in one hand. Even the sound of the warm water sloshing in the container made her thirstier than she'd ever been before, but Miranda wanted nothing from the man.
"Well hold up then, 'cause I do." He came to a stop, and when she kept moving, he reached out, grabbed her arm, and swung her around to face him.
Miranda watched him lean his head back and lift the canteen to his lips. She stared absently as droplets of water ran down his chin, along his neck, and disappeared under his shirt collar. He gulped at the water until Miranda couldn't bear the sight of his greedy lips at the mouth of the container anymore. She looked past him, over his shoulder, and just managed to stifle a gasp.
A dust cloud, about a mile back, heralded the approach of help. Jesse, Birdwell, someone was coming.
And deep within her, Miranda was somehow sure it was Jesse. Deliberately masking any emotion, she turned her gaze back to her captor.
Forbes lowered the canteen, smacked his lips, and wiped his mouth dry on his shirt sleeve. As he replaced the stopper in the flask he said gruffly, "Reckon we can ride again for a while now. Horse is pretty much tuckered, but so'm I."
No. Miranda's heart stopped. They couldn't get back on that horse. She had to keep him where he was. She had to buy some time. But already Forbes was reaching for the saddle horn and slipping his booted foot into the stirrup.
Quickly she reached for his arm, and when her fingers curled around his wrist, he froze.
Miranda felt the intensity of his stare and knew that he was just a breath away from madness. The flat, emotionless gray of his eyes seemed to burn through her body, making her want to run screaming into the desert. Instead she forced herself to smile at him. His brow furrowed, and she knew he was confused by her actions. But that was all she needed. To keep him guessing just long enough.
The dust cloud over his shoulder was closer now. Soon he'd be able to hear the pounding of the horse's hooves. Then she would somehow have to prevent him from shooting at her rescuer.
But for now she did the only thing she could think to do. Deliberately she pulled her hand from his arm and reached for the top button of her plain white shirt. As she slipped it free of the tiny buttonhole, she saw Forbes's eyes widen expectantly. Miranda took a deep breath and held it as she slowly opened the next two buttons, giving him a partial view of the valley between her breasts.
“I'm so hot," she whispered, fear making her voice sound husky with desire. “I think I'd like some water after all, please."
Forbes's tongue ran across his lips hungrily. He pulled his foot free of the stirrup, lifted the canteen, and handed it to her. When she took it from him, he used the opportunity to run one finger down the vee of exposed flesh on her chest. He didn't seem to notice the shudder that racked her body. His other hand he kept on the saddle horn. Miranda noticed that the rifle scabbard was far too close to his reach and she deliberately took a step back.
He frowned, but when she undid yet another button and then languidly smoothed the palm of her hand over the top of her breasts, he was caught, spellbound, by the motion.
Miranda's straining ears picked up the hollow echo of the running horse and she only prayed that Forbes was too intent on her to notice. Slowly she pulled the stopper out of the canteen and purposely spilled a small stream of water down the front of her shirt. Wet, the thin, white fabric molded itself to her body and she read the fierce hunger in his cold eyes.
Sudden, overwhelming fear gripped her as she realized what would happen to her now if Jesse failed in his attempt to get her away from this man.
A flash of suspicion shot across the killer's features and Miranda knew that she'd failed. She'd let him glimpse her fear, her revulsion, and now he knew her attempt at seduction for what it was. A desperate ploy.
All at once he spun around. The rider was closer now. The thunderous pounding reached out and wrapped a web of hope around Miranda. She held her breath. He was close enough for her to identify now.
Jesse. Just as she'd known it would be.
Almost before the swell of relief began, she saw Tom Forbes spring into action. He reached across his saddle and pulled the rifle from the scabbard. Instinctively Miranda leaped at him. Her hands closed around the cool metal barrel and she fought the much stronger man for control of the gun.
He shoved at her, screaming, “Let go, damn you! I have to save you! You're mine now! And nobody's gonna take you away! Nobody!"
“Jesse!” Miranda's defiant screech cut through the desert silence. She had to let him know that Forbes was aware of him. She had to make him be careful. To watch for his chance.
But she was no match for Forbes's greater strength.
In a moment he would wrest the gun from her hands. The best she could hope for was to delay him a bit. Force him to hurry his shot. Make him miss his first attempt. Hopefully Jesse would be able to finish the fight that she had started.
A shot rang out but went wide of the two people struggling in the sand. Miranda knew that Jesse wouldn't risk a direct shot at Forbes as long as she was locked in battle with him. But she couldn't let go yet.
Desperately she clung to the rifle barrel despite Forbes's attempts to shake her off. Her shoulders ached. Her sweaty palms slid over the now warm, slate-gray metal. Every ounce of her strength was concentrated on her hopeless task. But Miranda knew that every second she delayed Forbes gave Jesse that much greater a chance of succeeding.
In one last, mighty effort, Miranda tightened her grip and pulled the rifle toward her, hoping to draw him off balance.
A white-hot pain lanced through her side and she was almost deafened by the accompanying explosion of sound. Her jaw dropped with the shock of the fiery blow. Her turquoise eyes, filled with pain, widened abruptly, and she didn't even have time to scream before they closed again and she slumped to the ground.
Tom Forbes stood over her limp body, his features frozen.
When Jesse drew his lathered horse to a sliding stop, he kept his rifle trained on Forbes's back even as his terrified gaze swept over Miranda. As he watched, motionless, bright red blood poured from her left side, spilling onto her shirt and staining the sand beneath her.
"Miranda…" Forbes turned slowly, his rifle barrel drifting pointedly toward Miranda's head.
"Drop the gun," Jesse ordered, forcing his gaze away from the unconscious woman.
"Nope." Forbes took a step toward his horse, looked past Jesse, and saw yet another dust cloud closing in fast. More of them. And who knew how many?
“I said drop the gun," Jesse commanded, his voice cracking with rage.
"You shoot me, mister, and I swear that with my last breath, I'll finish her off." Forbes looked up at Jesse through slitted eyes. The sun was directly behind the man on horseback, putting Forbes at a disadvantage. All there was to be seen of Jesse Hogan was a wavy dark image against the shimmering desert sun.
He chanced another look at the distance. The rest of 'em were closer now. He had to get out of there fast. “I'm goin' now."
Jesse stared down at the man he'd chased for two long, lonely years. The old killing rage filled him and he wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger and rid the world of Tom Forbes. But could he keep the man from carrying out his pledge? Jesse swallowed painfully and his heart staggered when Miranda moaned softly.
He had no choice. He couldn't take the risk. Memories of Miranda raced through his brain and filled every cold, empty place inside him.
She'd told him once that someday he would have to make a choice. Love or revenge. The day was upon him sooner than either of them would have expected. And when faced with the choice of avenging his past or saving his future, there was really no answer but one.
Miranda. The life she'd shown him. The life they could have together. The love she'd managed to bring to him even when he was too stupid to take it He chose Miranda. He would always choose Miranda. "She's prob'ly got a chance if you get her to a doc," Forbes added slyly. "But you best make it quick."
Slowly Jesse nodded. He kept his rifle trained on the other man, ready for the enemy to make the slightest mistake. But Forbes moved carefully. And once astride his horse, the killer spared Miranda's limp form only a passing glance. Then he looked over his shoulder before spurring the animal into a mile-eating gallop.
As soon as Forbes left, Jesse dropped from his horse and ran to Miranda's side. Gently he lifted her from the desert floor and cradled her against his chest with one strong arm. Carefully then, he pulled her shirttail free of her skirt and lifted it uneasily to examine her wound.