The Gallows' Bounty (West of Second Chances) (4 page)

Maybe she’d get lucky, and the rider wouldn’t even see her.  But she knew she’d have to face whomever it was lest she lose Boden’s horse and the few supplies on the stallion’s back.

The lone rider rode slowly into her camp.

EZRA ROAD INTO
WILLOW'S
camp, relieved to have finally caught up with her.  He was also happy that his stallion stood properly staked out, unsaddled, and appearing no worse for wear.

Now where was the woman?

She’d led him on quite a chase.  He wanted to assure himself of her safety and head home.  She could come with or she could go her own way.  He was prepared to give her the choice.  But the coming storm would give them no option but to find shelter quickly.  Already, fat, cool drops were falling.

An exploration of the camp revealed no evidence of a fire, but a blanket did rest on a patch of ground.  He dismounted.

She’s finally tuckered herself out
, Ezra thought and smiled to himself.

She’d fought hard, and a part of him filled with pride.  Perhaps, if she gave him a chance, he could make her a happy woman.

Could he keep someone happy?

He hadn’t tried since he was a child.

Thankfully, the cocking of a rifle interrupted his thoughts.  He didn’t want to think about his childhood.

He turned to his left and faced the barrel of his own gun. It didn’t appear as though she planned to give him any chances.

“Plannin’ on shootin’ me?”  Boden addressed the rifle barrel as he tied Kitty near Beast.

“No, not if you get out of here and leave me be.”

“I can’t do that.”

“And why’s that?” Her question came to him from behind a fallen tree.

So that’s where she’s hiding
, Boden thought and said, “Because there’s a storm brewing and you’ll need me.”

“I’ve lived through plenty of storms.”

And somehow he knew she wasn’t speaking of only the ones in the sky.  He’d lived through a few storms like that as well.

“Sometimes the storms are easier when two people face them,” he stated.

He heard a cluck of disbelief and then, “What do you really want, because I’m not comin’ back with you.”

“I came for my horse.”

“Men and their horses” barely reached his ears, but he heard the sarcasm in her voice nevertheless.

He chuckled.  “Yeah, I’m rather fond of Beast here.”

Boden patted the animal on the rear as he rounded him.  He leaned against the animal’s side, waiting for her answer, but received none.  The barrel of the rifle remained in place, but it looked propped rather than aimed.  Carefully, he approached her hiding place.  All he saw was her tail end as she crawled around the end of the tree.  It was a mighty fine hind-end, rounded perfectly, but he would contemplate that later.  Right now, a woman needed protected from an angry storm.

With a leap over the fallen tree, he was off after his new wife. She proved to be a fast little thing.  He picked up speed and gained ground quickly.

Seconds later he was nearly upon her, and she turned to look at him.  The fear in her eyes almost made him give up the chase, but the knowledge that wild animals, dangerous men, and raging storms plagued the territory made him stretch out his arm and grab the bodice of her dress.  Willow refused to stop and he refused to let go, and they both hit the ground.

They landed side-by-side, and Willow tried to scramble away from him.  Ezra wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her beneath him.  She fought with the savagery of a trapped beast, kicking and scratching with all of her might.

“Mrs. Roberts,” he spoke.  He tried not to let a grunt of pain escape when the toe of her boot slammed into his shin.

“Relax, everything’s all right.”

She seemed not to hear him and continued to struggle.  He distributed his weight across her body and waited for her to give up.  He felt like an intruder atop her, but that didn’t stop him from noticing how soft she was.  And how vulnerable.

“Get your horse and leave me be,” she shouted.

He withdrew a hand from her shoulder and she stiffened.  Did she think he was going to hit her?  Well, he wasn’t.  He wiped a raindrop off her cheek.

“How about we come to an understanding?” he asked, reluctantly standing and offering her his hand.  A part of him missed the feel of her, and he pushed the thought of her soft body aside.

She took his hand, albeit warily.  “What kind of understanding?” she asked once on her feet.

“This kind,” Boden spoke as he removed one of his pistols from his holster and handed it to her butt first.

“What? We’re going to shoot it out?” she asked.

“No,” he said, hiding his amusement at her confused expression.  “Check the barrel.” He waited for her to do so before continuing. “It’s loaded, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Well, that gun’s yours now.  If you feel like I’m ever gettin’ out of line, you can use it on me.”

“And then hang for it,” she said.

“Shoot me, but don’t kill me then,” he said with a smile.

“Why are you doin’ this?” Genuine puzzlement contorted her face.

“Because there’s a mighty storm overhead, and I don’t have time to win your trust any other way.”

As she contemplated his offer, he noticed how the increasing wind blew her rain-washed hair about her head, and plastered her scarlet dress to her body.

Boden saw again how she had made the men of
Devils Lake crazy with lust.  She was one hundred percent desirable despite the circles under her eyes and her disheveled appearance.  Her blue eyes were large in her thin face, her lips full and supple.  She wasn’t innocent of life’s harshness, but somehow he knew she was
innocent
.  A protective instinct roused within him.

He sought to draw her close, but realized his touch would be unwelcome.  Her steely gaze of determination told him as much, even though it cloaked her fear.

“I don’t expect you to trust me any time soon,” he added.  “Just give me a chance.”

As he spoke, he hoped he was taking a good chance on her.  Despite his cavalier action of giving her the gun, he still wasn’t completely sure he could trust her with it.

He was about to find out, though, for she raised the gun and leveled it at him.  She cocked the hammer and began to squeeze the trigger.  Damn, he was going to have to draw on her.

In one swift movement, his hand went to his own gun, but at the last moment he halted his shot.  She had drawn her gun away from him and fired it into the knot of a nearby tree.  She hit it dead center without steadying her gun hand with her other one.

She was a crack shot.

“Just in case you were wondering if I could use it.”  She spoke the words as a threat and Boden took it to heart.

“Understood. Now let’s get out of this storm before it decides to fall on us.”

His hand shook as he placed his pistol back in his holster.  He would have been dead if she’d picked him for her target.  Not because she was a faster draw or a better shot, but because he wouldn’t have been able to pull the trigger.

And how much good had it done to give her that gun?  She looked unsure of him even now.  He wondered how long it would take him to remove that wary look from her eyes.  Could he?

Ezra guided them back to their horses,
Willow keeping a short distance between them.  It seemed that for the moment there was a truce between them, either that or she was too tired to fight him anymore.

The rain began to pour from the skies, and Ezra picked up the pace. The mud beneath his feet made the uphill climb a difficult one.  He wondered how his horses managed to carry his hide up such slopes without falling.  Boden turned and waited for
Willow to catch up with him.  She, too, was having a time of it; and her long, sopping skirts weren’t helping much.  Why women had to wear such damn heavy skirts, he didn’t know.

WILLOW WAS RIGHT BESIDE
him before she noticed he waited for her, so intent had she been on keeping on her feet.  She looked up at him only after he thrust a hand into her line of vision.  She blinked, squeezing large drops of rain from her lashes.  She hesitated to place her hand in his.

“I’d rather you didn’t go sliding back down this here bank,” Boden explained.

Her only answer was to lift her hands, palms out.  They were plum full of splinters.  He wrapped his hand around her wrist as softly as his big hands could muster.

“I suppose I can help you up the hill without hurtin’ you if I take hold like this,” he explained.  With his free hand, he removed
his
hat and placed it on her bent head.  That gained him another consternated look before they made their way toward the horses.

Once they reached the hilltop and the horses, Willow gladly shook free of his hold. Although it didn’t make her uncomfortable or anxious, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Butcher Boden’s touch. He’d given her a gun, a hand up, and a hat.  In under an hour, he had done more for her than anyone had for a very long time.  Not to mention he’d killed the man who had attacked her the day before.  This man was supposed to be a famous, heartless gunslinger.  She wondered when he’d start living up to his intimidating reputation.

She was sure he would.

She made her way to Beast and began to mount up, but a pair of hands at her waist made her question her fledgling trust.  The pistol rested uselessly in her skirt pocket.  The hands lifted her to the ground, and immediately removed themselves from her waist.

“Here, put this on first,” Boden said. He removed the slicker he was wearing and draped it over her shoulders.  Rain hurriedly soaked him to the skin.

“I thought you were a hated bounty hunter,” she commented.

“Don’t doubt it,” Boden said.

“French was pleased when you won me in that contest,” she expounded.

“You figure French is a good judge of character?”  He met her gaze straight on.

She shook her head.

“Let’s see about those splinters,” Boden said.

“They’re in deep,” she explained.  “I doubt you’ll be able to do much about them. I’ve tried.”

Boden withdrew a small switchblade from his pocket.  Willow tensed.  He hastened to explain, “Its sharp point is the closest thing I have to a needle.  If we don’t get those splinters out, your hands will get infected.”

He held out his palm and waited for her to lay her hand in his, palm up.

“Let me know if it hurts too badly,” he said before beginning to work on her hands.

The calluses on his palms said he was used to hard work; the controlled strength of his grip said he knew how to control his power.  He surprised her.  It was no secret that bounty hunters could grow as unscrupulous as the men they hunted, yet she began to glimpse a tenderness beneath the hard shell he presented to the world. Her hand was so small in his own, making her wonder how old he was.

“How old are you?” he asked.

The question so paralleled her own thoughts that her heart pounded a bit harder in her chest.  “Nineteen.”

“You’re so young.”

“I haven’t been young for a long while, Mr. Boden,” she revealed, wishing she had kept the thought to herself.

“No, I don’t reckon you have,” he said.  He met her gaze as he spoke.

Not wanting him to dwell on her admission, she asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four,” he replied, returning to work on her hands.

He wasn’t all that much older than herself.  Like her, he probably knew more about life than any person should.  He was so young to have earned such a legendary reputation.  Impossibly she grew even more curious about the man.

Searching for where she’d hit him, she studied his bent head as he removed all but the most stubborn splinters.  His thick head of hair kept her from locating the spot, however.  She wondered if it still hurt him.

When he finished his ministrations,
Willow made to mount up again.

“Wait a minute,” he spoke and stepped around her.  “The stirrups are much too long for you.”

He was right, of course.  She had been too busy fleeing from him to bother with the stirrups, opting to stay in the saddle by gripping it with her thighs.  No wonder she was tuckered out.  Willow looked on as he deftly shortened the stirrups.

“There you go,” he said once he was finished.

“Thanks,” she managed although she didn’t look up at him.

“Reckon I'm only doing what any man would,” Ezra returned.

“You must not have known the same men I have,” she said quietly.

She mounted up and followed Butcher Boden to his home.

THE RAIN FELL HARDER
by the hour.  It soaked into everything except the over-saturated ground.  Puddles stood everywhere, and small streams flowed in washouts and ruts.  The temperature also continued to drop as the day lengthened.  At one point, hail had fallen from the skies, and Willow had been very grateful for the protection of his hat.