Authors: Breanna Hayse
He tipped his hat.
"Sloan Adkins, ma'am."
"Thank you for your intervention,
Mr. Adkins.
I feared that there
were no gentlemen left in this country," Blair said, with annoyance.
"My pleasure.
I always enjoy helping a lady in
need.
I overheard that you're
heading for Manitou Springs.
You
got quite a ride ahead of you, Miss.
Do you have a stage waiting to take you across the trail?"
"Would you care for anything to
eat?" she asked, ignoring his question and lifting her basket.
"No thank you," Sloan shook his
head, "I am afraid that trains and my stomach do not fend well
together."
"Nor do mine," Blair said,
forcing a smile.
"I'm heading out to the Peak.
There has been a lot of disturbance
lately with the miners coming into town, and they've been asking for some
reinforcements to come in by end of summer.
If you wish, I will accompany you to
your exchange."
He gestured to
the man behind him with his thumb.
"There is a heap more of characters like this one, and they are much
more dangerous."
"While I appreciate the offer, I
assure you that I can care for myself," Blair said, smugly.
"These close proximities simply
inhibited my ability to depart from his presence."
"Sweetheart," Sloan tilted his
hat up a tad to expose a cold, blue eye, "you are going to continue to
find yourself in close proximity to the presence of these men.
A train car is only one type of
confinement.
In the open, they can
run you down just as easy."
"Thank you for the warning.
I will take it under advisement."
"Don't get many gals from back east
with this type of attitude."
He sounded pleased.
"Betcha you will make one fine teacher.
That type of spunk is needed for a
classroom."
"I am not coming out here to teach,
be a governess, a housewife, or a mother!" Blair snapped.
"Why must everyone assume that
because I am a woman, I am obligated to perform the tasks designated to my
gender?"
"Whoa!
I don't know what got your trousers in a
hitch, but calm down.
Just making
conversation to keep my mind off my gut."
Blair blushed, her alabaster skin turning
to a pretty pink.
She cleared her
throat and dipped her head.
"I
apologize, Mr. Adkins.
I tend to
get a little defensive nowadays.
I
thank you for the compliment.
You
are one of the few who deem my disposition to have merit."
"People are fools if they can't see
past their own discomfort.
I've
been known to have a bit of a bad attitude myself.
It's gotten me into my share of trouble,
too," he chuckled, crossing his long legs while stretching his arms across
the back of the bench.
"I can believe that.
Society appears to predetermine our
behavior based upon society's comforts, does it not?"
"To hades with society.
I've got me a life to live and I am not
going to shift my behavior to fit into a crowd that I have no interest in
belonging to.
Can't afford
to."
He fingered his
badge.
"I deal with too many
noncompliants.
I do what I need to
in order to survive and still be able to look in the mirror the next day."
"We don't see many Rangers in
Philadelphia," she commented.
"I am also detecting a slight accent if I am not mistaken.
Massachusetts?"
"I had some personal business to
attend to.
You have a good
ear.
I was born and raised in
Boston.
Got tired of being confined
to an office and made my grand escape to the Great Lands.
Folks weren't too happy with that.
How about you?"
"I was at continuous odds with the
Young Ladies Academy," Blair grinned, pleased to find that she was not
alone in the need to break away from the restrictions of the well-to-do.
"The headmistress did not
appreciate being called an old pig-faced sow, nor did my great-aunt take well
to being informed that she was selfish and judgmental.
I do loathe high society and did not
mince my words, failing dreadfully in every area of etiquette expected of a
lady.
I fear my vocabulary turned
slightly to the vulgar side and nearly caused the old witch a fit of
apoplexy."
"I can guess that did not go over
well on either account," Sloan smiled back, flashing straight white teeth
and a dimple on his left cheek.
"Although, a lady with an uncontrolled temper can be dangerous as
well as difficult to live with.
That's not a good combination in these parts.
People aren't comfortable being around a
sharp tongue or a grizzly character.
It tends to make their trigger finger itch."
"I would have no need to demonstrate
my temper if I were allowed some freedom to make my own choices and design my
own life," Blair said defensively.
"People must learn how to leave well enough alone.
If they do not care for my temper, then
they can depart from my presence.
It is quite simple."
"I see." Sloan tilted his hat
back, revealing a black patch covering his left eye.
"Just beware of what happens when
one seeks out a fight.
She will easily
find one.
I am speaking from
experience."
"What do you mean by that, Mr.
Adkins?"
"Pardon me for saying so, but you
seem to be a bit defensive.
If not
in your words, then your tone.
A
listener can interpret that in a bad way and, in these parts, it can lead to a
fight.
Just a word of warning, Miss
Farbor.
Just a word of
warning."
"How did you know my name?"
Blair frowned.
The ranger shrugged, "I overheard
you mention it earlier."
"Did I?
I must have forgotten."
"Circumstances like these often lead
to distractions.
Be careful of
these distractions.
They can cost
you."
Blair bristled before changing the
subject.
"Please forgive me
for noticing, but what happened to your eye?" Blair asked quietly.
"This is the perfect opportunity for
me to share a tall tale of a knife fight or an Indian arrow, but I loathe
fibbing.
Truth is I got into a
scrape with a polecat.
He
won." Sloan offered a lazy grin.
"Doc said to keep it covered for a few weeks so I don't go rubbing
on it.
Temporary inconvenience that
makes me look like a scoundrel."
"It sprayed you in the eye?"
Blair's mouth hung open with disbelief.
"Why in the world did you allow it to get so close?"
"I didn't allow it, girly.
The varmint found its way into my bed
blankets and didn't care for me rolling over on it."
Blair frowned.
"You were cuddling up to a
skunk?"
"I wouldn't quite call it that,
although that animal might differ in its opinion.
Are you laughing at me?"
"A trifle."
Blair dabbed the corners of her eyes
with her handkerchief.
Sloan grunted.
"Ladies with proper manners don't
go laughing at a man's injuries or his indignities.
Got any biscuits in that basket?"
"Freshly baked this morning.
I picked them up at this last stop.
Please, help yourself.
I am certain they taste much better
without the scent of skunk on your hands." Blair grinned broadly, unable
to resist her comment.
"Very funny, Miss Farbor."
Sloan's unpatched eye twinkled as he
took a bite of the fluffy biscuit.
"Very funny.
I see this
is going to be an interesting journey."
Blair glanced behind her shoulder as she
stretched her legs at the depot in St. Louis.
She had planned to gather some more food
and refresh herself before re-boarding the train.
She sighed as she considered the final
stretch of train travel and then the agonizing six-week-long stagecoach ride to
her Grandfather's ranch.
The hair
on the back of her neck rose as she noticed that the would-be miner was
following her.
She ducked into the
crowd of people and dodged speedily around several corners in an effort to
avoid crossing his path.
Her luck
ran out as she faced a tall wall.
She turned to find that his heavy-set form blocked her exit from a narrow
corridor between the train depot and the town's inn.
"Where are ya headed, sweetheart?
Would you like an escort?"
Blair glared into his face, holding back
the need to gag at the smell of his rancid breath.
"I thought I made myself clear that
I was not interested in you or your endeavors to pursue me.
Remove your hands from my person!"
The man pushed her against the wall and
leaned over her face.
"Little
girls like you don't know what they want.
They wouldn't recognize a real man until he shoves his cock into her
quim."
"Let me go!" Blair screamed.
He clapped his filthy left hand over her
mouth and began to fumble with her skirts.
"Shhh, it will only hurt for a moment, and then you will become the
perfect whore for me."
Fear seized Blair as his fingers pulled
at the ribbon of her drawers.
She
bit down with all her might on the heel of his hand, tasting blood as her teeth
sank into flesh.
The man yelled out
in pain and backed away, clutching his bloody appendage.
Rage covered his bloated face and he
backhanded her solidly across the jaw.
Blair tumbled to the ground, barely missing striking the back of her
head against the brick wall.
She
fought against him as he straddled her hips and held her wrists over her
head.
The strip of fabric torn from
her gown and stuffed into her mouth muffled her screams for help.
"You are going to feel what it is to
be fucked by a real man," he snarled, yanking her skirts to her waist and
parting the split undergarments to expose her lightly furred mound.
Blair's struggles increased as he jammed
his knees between hers to force her thighs apart and pulled his bobbing cock
from his pants.
He aimed it towards
her untried womanhood, ignoring the sheer panic that lit across her eyes.
"No!" she screamed as the tip
of his filthy cock nuzzled against her entryway.
A shot rang out, and the man stiffened
before falling across Blair's chest.
She shoved the body to the side and scrambled to sit against the wall,
her eyes filled with terror-stricken tears as she pulled the fabric to cover
her body.
"You okay, Miss?"
"He was going to ... he …"
Blair began to sob.
Sloan squatted in front of her.
"He's dead.
You were lucky I was here.
Did he hurt you?"
"No, I …"
"Your lip is bleeding.
Here." He tore a piece of linen
from her underskirts and dabbed the corner of her mouth.
"You're gonna be all right.
Take some deep breaths, girl.
Come on, breathe …."
Blair looked up into his face and burst
into a new set of tears.
With a
loud sigh, Sloan sat on the ground and pulled her into his arms.
"We are gonna have to teach you how
to survive in these parts, Miss Farbor.
This isn't the big city, where you can call a police officer to assist
you.
Do you have a given name, by
the way?"
"Blair.
Blair Lorraine Farbor."
"Blair is an interesting name.
Unique, to say the least.
Scottish?"
"Why, yes," Blair said with
surprise.
"I am
impressed.
Not many people know of
such things.
My father had a mentor
whose name was Dr. Blair.
I was
named in honor of him."