Judith French - Morgan's Woman

"You're all right. I have you." Tamsin's hair was tangled with twigs and leaves, but beneath the dust, she still smelled as sweet as he remembered.

Alone, he would have gone after the remaining three, but with Tamsin to worry about, it seemed wiser to run.

She twisted to look up at him. "I didn't want to go with them. They threatened to kill me."

He nodded. "I guessed as much."

"You did?"

"Shhh, darlin'." He allowed himself to touch her cheek for just an instant. "I'm going to get you out of here in one piece, but you've got to help me."

"There's tracks from a single horse," Boone called.

"Just one animal?"

"That's all I see, Jack."

"You asshole! If there's only one horse, then there's only one shooter. Find him!"

Black hatred thickened Ash's throat, and he forced back the killing rage. When it came to besting human vermin like the Cannons, anger was a man's worst enemy. Ash knew he needed to use his wits. The odds were three to two, and Tamsin was weak from loss of blood. Jack was a crack shot. Given half a chance, he would kill them both.

Ash grabbed Tamsin and ran uphill, not stopping until he was out of breath. Then he drew her down into a hollow behind a rock. "Keep your head low," he told her. "I'm going to get us a mount."

She clung to him. "Don't go," she said. "Dancer will find me."

Ash brushed her mouth with his. "You're hurt, darlin'. You need to lay still and let me worry about Cannon."

"But Dancer-"

"He's scared. We can't wait for him to lead them to us." He ripped off his scarf and bound it around her arm. "It looks bad, but I think the bullet missed the bone."

"No. Don't go. They'll kill you."

"Be brave a little longer, darlin'. We can't get out of here without a horse."

"Promise me you won't let them catch me?"

He tilted her chin and looked into her eyes as icy dread seeped through his gut. "Did they abuse you?"

She shook her head. "A slap or two, nothing more."

"It doesn't matter. You can tell me the truth."

"I am telling the truth, you idiot," she snapped at him. "You stopped them." Tears filled her eyes. "I'd rather be dead than have those monsters-"

"Alive is better, woman. Always choose life. But it won't come to that. I swear to you." He stood up. "Wait here, and don't make a sound."

"Don't leave me."

"I'll be within earshot. You just call out if you need me."

Pistol ready, Ash moved from tree to tree, scanning the forest for any sign of movement. The shooting had stopped, and he could no longer hear voices below.

He'd turned Shiloh loose after he'd killed the first of Jack's gang with the rifle. The gelding wouldn't roam far, but the trick was to get him before Cannon's boys did.

He needed to get Tamsin safely away to wash her arm before it swelled with infection. And he needed to finish off Jack and his two remaining accomplices. If he didn't, he knew Cannon would track them down.

Maybe Tamsin was right, he thought. He should have brought along a posse. Maybe, for once, he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

When Ash returned to the spot where he'd left Tamsin, he found Dancer standing beside her nuzzling her shoulder. "I told you he'd come back."

"If you don't mind, woman, I'm not in the mood for your reminders."

"All right." Her face was bloodless, but she smiled at him. "Have they gone? The outlaws?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." He looked at the sky, gauging the hour and how long it would be until dark. He didn't think they were far from Leon's cabin. He hoped Cannon would decide to go there rather than chase Tamsin through the woods all night.

"Dancer's hurt," Tamsin said. "I need to wash those cuts on his side and rump. I must have pulled out a dozen splinters. I hope they don't get infected."

"What about you?"

"I'll be all right."

She didn't look all right to him.

"You didn't find Shiloh."

He shook his head. "I did locate a spring higher up the ridge. We can camp there tonight."

"And in the morning?"

"Sweetwater is east of here."

"You're taking me back." She nodded. "Jail looked pretty good to me a few hours ago."

He didn't lie to her. He just couldn't tell her the truth, that he'd have to leave her and go after Cannon. His rifle was almost destroyed; they had two pistols and one horse between them. They couldn't outride Jack's gang, and they couldn't outshoot him. As long as they stayed hidden, they might be safe. But when they started back toward Sweetwater, he knew Jack would come after them.

He put her on the stallion and led Dancer uphill to the spring. They couldn't risk a fire tonight, and they were without food, but they could survive with water.

It took a half hour to reach the spot. He helped Tamsin down and let her drink her fill before he led the horse to the small run-off pool between the rocks. Tamsin sat stoically while he tore up a clean shirt from his bedroll to cleanse the bullet hole and stanch the bleeding. Next he packed the wound with moss that he scraped off a boulder and bandaged it tightly.

"You might have brought us some dry biscuits or bacon in that pack of yours," she chided when he was finished with his doctoring. "And you need to take care of Dancer's injuries."

"I'll wash the damn horse's scratches."

"They aren't scratches. They're puncture wounds. He could get lockjaw."

"Maybe I should have put a vet in my pack as well."

"Fried chicken would have been nice. Or apples, ripe red apples."

"Would have if you'd given me notice you were runnin' off again." He grumbled as he cared for Dancer's cuts.

"You can't blame that on me. I was kidnapped."

"So you say." He grinned at her and spread a blanket on a pile of pine needles, then gestured for her to sit on it. "You're more trouble than any owlhoot I've ever gone after."

"Sorry."

Carefully, he reloaded Billy's pistol and placed it within reach. "This one's for you. Use it, if you need to." He settled down beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. Tamsin's head fell naturally against his chest as though that was where it belonged.

She looked up at him, and he winced at the sight of the dark circles under her eyes. "What happens in the morning?"

"I told you, let me worry about that," he said. "You sleep. You look like you need it." He pulled her close, mindful of her injured arm. "I've got no intentions of dyin', Tamsin. Once this is done, we can start living."

Gray smoke billowed from Leon's chimney in the early morning light. Ash lay on his belly near the house spring and thought about Tamsin while he waited for Texas Jack to show his face.

She'd be fightin' mad when she found out that he'd gone off without her again, but he figured she'd forgive him once Jack was permanently out of the way.

It seemed impossible to him that they'd only known each other such a short time. She was part of him now, as close as his right hand, as necessary as his lungs for giving him life.

Horses, cows, or kids, he didn't give a tinker's damn what she wanted to raise or where she wanted to raise them. He could turn his hand to just about anything, and he was tired of hunting men.

It was time someone else tracked down the Texas Jack Cannons and the James boys. His belly was empty. His arm hurt like hell, and he had blisters on both heels from walking half the night. Damned if he wasn't getting too old for this business.

He'd left a note for Tamsin under Billy's pistol. He'd drawn a map showing her the way back to Sweetwater and left instructions to get to Max Spence's place and have Max contact Dimitri.

If he didn't make it back, she could take Dancer and ride. He'd have to put his faith in Dimitri to get her out of trouble with the law. Nobody else could do what he had to do this morning.