The Gallows' Bounty (West of Second Chances) (24 page)

“Yes, but maybe you should leave your arm where it is until I’m stretched out.”

“That sounds like a great idea to me,” Boden said and smiled.

A hand at her waist, Boden guided his wife to a nearby stream.  “Want a drink?”

She nodded.

The spring fed creek flowed by at a leisurely pace and the bottom was sandy.  Boden helped
Willow to her knees before joining her.  They removed their gloves and cupped water in their hands.  The water was freezing, and both of them hastened to return their gloves to their hands once finished.  Afterward, the couple wound their way hand in hand through the trees back to their horses.

Upon breaking the tree line, Ezra pulled
Willow to a stop.  She looked puzzled until she saw what he had seen moments earlier.  A pair of masked riders inspected their horses.

“Let’s stay here and see what they’re up to,” Boden suggested, guiding
Willow behind a nearby tree.  “They haven’t spotted us yet.”

“Boden?”
Willow asked quietly.

“Yes?”

“I may have forgotten to tell you something French said.”

Boden met her eyes.  “And what might that be?”

“French mentioned someone was paying him to get rid of me.”

“When were you planning on telling me that?”

“As soon as I remembered.”

“How could you forget?”

“French.  The baby.  I was distracted.”

“Understandable,” Boden conceded.  “Any idea why someone wants you dead?”

“No,” Willow said with a shake of her head.

Boden returned his attention to the two men, and Willow followed suit.  As they watched, one man rode off.  He appeared to be checking the tree line for a sign of them.  The other rider stayed with their horses.

“I’m going after the one by the horses,” Ezra said.  “Stay here.”

“Be careful.”

He planted a kiss on her forehead.  “I will be.  I wouldn’t leave you alone with these men for the world.”

Willow watched as Ezra, his tall body crouched at the waist, approached the remaining horseman from behind.
 

B
ODEN PULLED THE MASKED
rider from atop his horse and subdued him with the butt of his gun.

Ezra looked
Willow’s way then and waved her on.  He tore the mask off of the rider.  French.  Boden wished he had the time to shoot the man where he lay, but the second rider could appear at any time.  Besides, Willow looked on, and he’d rather avoid shooting the now unarmed man in front of her.

He grabbed the reins of their horses and headed toward his wife.  The pounding hooves of a fast approaching horseman warned him they would soon have company.

“Mount up.  I’ll cover you,” Boden said as he tossed Willow Reliance’s reins and drew his rifle from his saddle scabbard.

The rider bore down on him, and Boden shouldered his rifle and fired.  He didn’t wait to see if the rider fell, for
Willow’s horse already thundered out of danger.  Boden mounted his own animal, casting a quick glance back at French as he spurred Beast into action.  Too bad he didn’t believe in shooting a man while he was out cold.

He rode alongside Willow, and she slowed for a moment to hear what he had to tell her.  “I’m not sure if they’re down for good.  We’re going to make fast tracks for a while. Do you think you’ll be all right?”

Willow knew what he meant.  Would the baby be all right?  “I don’t see as we have a choice.”

“I know.  Hold tight.  I don’t want you falling off.”

They kicked their horses into action again, the packhorses having little choice but to follow fast on their heels.

WILLOW RODE LOW OVER
the saddle.  She’d run for her life many times before, but never with a man who cared enough for her to bring up the rear.

Of course, the first snowfall of the year would pick now to fall. Heavy flakes fell from dark skies. Soon they were falling fast and falling faster.  The ground slickened.  The next bend in the road came up quickly, and Reliance’s hooves slipped uncertainly as horse and rider rounded it.

Willow’s hand dipped to the saddle horn, and her thighs squeezed the saddle.  She stayed seated, and the horse recovered.  Boden rode alongside her.  Big fluffy flakes rested on his hat brim and concern showed in his brown eyes.

“It’s time to slow down,” Boden said.

“They’re still behind us, though, aren’t they?”

“Probably, but this snow is falling heavy.  I got a feeling we won’t be able to see more than a few feet ahead of us pretty soon.  They’ll take shelter just as we have to.  I hit the one.”

“Did you get a chance to look at the other one’s face?”

“Sure did.  It was French.”

“Did you...”

“No, I didn’t kill him.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Heartless is what you are, Mrs. Boden,” her husband said on a laugh.

“I talk big,” Willow admitted.

As Boden predicted, they didn’t manage to stay moving long.  The snow whirled from the sky in heavy flakes and made visibility difficult.  The last thing either of them wanted to do was wonder off the path and loose themselves in the unending whiteness.

“We’re only a few hours from home, but I’m afraid we’re not going to make it.” Ezra directed the horses into a clearing naturally sheltered by overhanging tree limbs.  “We’ll stop here and hope the snow lets up by morning.  We don’t want to wander aimlessly in this weather.”

He dismounted and helped
Willow to the ground.

“I’ll get the horses settled if you’ll make us a place to keep warm,” Ezra instructed as he reached for the reins.  He handed her a bundle from the packhorse and said, “There’s a couple of blankets wrapped in that oilcloth.”

He moved to stake out the horses, and when he returned a while later, Willow had a cozy place prepared for them beneath the overhanging limbs of an old cottonwood.  The limbs drooped low, and she’d draped one of the oilcloths securely across them.

He dropped a bundle of the driest wood he could find on the ground, and
Willow hoped he’d manage to start a fire.  Her teeth hadn’t stopped chattering since they’d stopped.

“Let this work,” Boden muttered as he took out his flint.  It did work, though, after a few tries.

“What can I do?” Willow asked from behind him once the fire took off.

“Sit here and get warm,” Ezra said.

He left her then, and it was quite some time before he rejoined her.  Actually, she’d started to worry he’d run into some trouble.  So when he reappeared, she was quite relieved.

“Didn’t mean to worry you,” he said as he set his findings down.  “Took me a while to find more wood and some water to make coffee.”

So, that’s what he’d been doing?  Searching for firewood and water while she’d sat snuggly huddled beneath the blankets he’d handed her.  She watched her tall husband kneel by the fire to prepare their supper.

The firelight cast his face in shadows and added mystery to his handsome face.  A weariness also appeared in his eyes.  He caught her looking at him.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asked and pushed his hat back on his forehead while he balanced on his haunches.

She debated how to answer him before settling for the truth.  “I was thinking you looked handsome and tuckered out at the same time.”

“I don’t know about handsome, but I sure am tired.  I’ll join you under those blankets in a minute.  It’s time for a little shuteye,” he said.  The fire took off under his care, the shelter Willow had created protected the fire just enough. Soon he had water boiling for coffee. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Sore, but otherwise fine.”

She offered to help him with supper, but he relegated her to merely watching him at work.  He arranged some jerky and biscuits on a plate, before bringing both to sit next to her.

“Here’s your share.  I put a little extra on your plate.  Guess I know now why you’ve been so hungry lately,” he said before adding thoughtfully, “you’ve been eating for two.  As thin as you are, the baby must be hogging it all.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.  I don’t ever feel like any of this makes it to my stomach.”  Willow took a bite of her food and washed down the hard biscuit with a bit of coffee.

The coffee steamed even if it was a little strong for her tastes.  It warmed her clear to her toes like nothing else could have.  Well, everything but Ezra anyway.

They ate in silence, and when they were finished, the snow still fell, the temperature dropping several degrees with it.

Her husband joined her under the covers after he stored their supplies and checked the horses.

“Well, now I know where all the heat has gone,” Boden teased as he removed his outer layer and joined her under the blankets.

Willow
snuggled into him.  “There, have some of my heat.”

The cold he brought with him beneath the blankets seeped into her, and she shivered.

“I suppose I’ve made you cold now,” he said and rubbed her arms beneath the blanket.

Willow
turned in his arms and pressed close to his chest.  He brought his arms around her.  Her ear rested against his chest, and the steady thudding of his heart soothed the last of her frazzled nerves.

Soon the warmth returned completely, and she drifted off to sleep, a comfortable slumber despite the weather and the gunmen on their trail.

UNSURE WHAT HAD PROPELLED
his eyes open, Boden awakened with a start.  One thing for sure, his eyes were never supposed to have closed.  He’d snuggled with Willow to keep her warm.  Damn, if he hadn’t let her warmth and softness lure him to sleep.

His first thought was of
Willow, but a quick look assured him she remained snuggled against his side and as beautiful as ever.  He waited in the silence a bit longer before he heard what had awakened him.  The snow had eased, and he heard muffled voices and clumsy footsteps mixed with the sound of wind rippling the oilcloth above them.

His body stiffened.  French and his masked gunman had followed them despite the heavy snowfall.  Damn.

Gently, he placed a hand over Willow’s soft lips and awakened her with a shake.  He could see her eyes open wide by the light of the fire, and he left his hand over her mouth as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

“We have some unwelcome company.  I’m going to move my hand now, but don’t make a sound,” he instructed.

She nodded her understanding, and he lifted his hand from her mouth.

The voices drifted their way again, and Ezra gathered the pair must be a little ways off yet.

“Get up.  Quietly.” When they both stood, he rearranged the bed to look as though he and Willow remained sound asleep beneath the old cottonwood.

Ezra grabbed
Willow’s hand and moved with her to the other side of the camp, deeper into the trees.  As they hid in the sparse late fall foliage, Ezra checked his rifle and made sure several shells were at his disposal.

“How’d they find us in this weather?”  Willow whispered when another wave of voices, louder this time, reached their ears.

“By sheer determination, I’d wager,” Ezra suggested.  “They probably weren’t too happy about our evading them earlier.”

Her teeth chattered, and the tip of her nose and her cheeks were red.  Ezra tugged her close to his side, moving one hand up and down her arm to warm her while his other held the rifle he would use to protect her.

Ezra continued to hold her even when he returned his attention to the camp.  It wouldn’t be long now.

Sure enough, two men crept into camp.  The fire illuminated their approach and showed that the one bringing up the rear limped slightly.

“I should have shot to kill,” Boden muttered under his breath.  He’d expected the man to head back to town with a shot up leg, but no such luck.  Boden hoped Willow didn’t pay for his moment of mercy.

“Hand over the woman, and we’ll leave you alone, Butcher.”  It was French who spoke, having realized no one was beneath the blankets.  So much for that ploy.

“No,” Ezra said when he stood. The men shouldn’t be able to see him clearly through the snow and darkness.  Willow couldn’t be exposed to the elements for much longer.  He had to get this over quickly.

Willow made to stand up beside him, but he placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from rising.  “And if you want to stay livin’, you’d better get a move on.”

“We’ve come for the woman,” French boasted.

“You should have stayed home, French.  My wife’s not going anywhere,” Ezra asserted.

“I believe she will be,” French responded.  He took a step in Boden’s direction.

“I should have finished you when I had the chance,” Ezra said, noting that the second gunman hobbled away during their discussion.  It would appear the man was planning a surprise attack while French kept his attention. He changed his position slightly so the tree shielded
Willow’s back while Ezra protected her front.

“I would have.  That’s where we’re different,” French continued.  “You live by rules, and I don’t.  I’m a bit puzzled where you got that reputation of yours, Butcher Boden.  So far, I haven’t seen you doin’ anything worthy of your legend.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen me angry yet,” Boden taunted.

“I guess it’s time we made you mad,” French challenged.  “I’m wantin’ to see what you’re made of.”

French dropped to his belly then, firing quick shots in Boden’s direction.  The sheriff’s body was no longer outlined by the light of the fire, and Boden lost his target in the darkness. He guessed at French’s location.  As he literally took shots in the dark, he lifted his other pistol from his holster and handed it back to Willow.  She took it from his hand.

Boden quit firing and listened.  No sounds met his ears, and he dropped down next to
Willow, crawling with her to the shelter of another tree trunk.  There he waited for French’s next move.  He didn’t have to wait long.

Bullets zipped through the air.  He threw himself to the ground and pulled
Willow with him to the other side of the tree trunk.  He placed his body over her behind the trunk and returned fire.  Bullets splintered the sides of the tree and buzzed past his head.

A shiver passed through Willow’s body, and he prayed to God she hadn’t been hit.  He tucked her more securely beneath him, conscious not to put his weight on her. She was a third of his size, and he didn’t want to hurt the baby.

The bullets stopped flying a short while later, and Ezra slowly stood, helping Willow to stand as he did so. He backed the two of them closer to the tree and waited with baited breath. Had he struck either of his targets?

He didn’t wait long for an answer.

“Drop it, Boden,” the masked, limping gunman commanded from a position directly in front of him. The man must have used French’s gunfire as cover in order to gain a better position.

When neither Boden nor
Willow made a move to do as he directed, the man hobbled a menacing step forward and spoke again, louder this time, “I’ll shoot otherwise.”