Nora Roberts: Lawless

“I’m going to kill him, Sarah. Kill him like a dog.” He pulled out his gun and rubbed the barrel against her cheek, gently, like a caress. “You’re going to watch. I want you to watch me kill him. Then you’ll understand. It’s important that you understand. A man like that deserves to die by a gun. He’s nothing, less than nothing. A crude gunslinger with Indian blood. He put his hands on you.” A whimper escaped her as he dragged a hand through her hair. “I’m going to kill him for you, Sarah. Then we’re going away, you and I.”

“No.” She wrenched free. The canyon was at her back when she faced him. If she had stumbled another step she would have fallen back into nothing. There was fear. The taste of it was bitter in her throat. But it wasn’t for herself. Jake would come, she knew, and someone would die. “I won’t go anywhere with you. It’s over, Samuel. You must see that. They know what you’ve done, and they’ll hunt you down.”

“A potbellied sheriff?” He laughed and, before she could evade him, closed his hand over her arm. “Not likely. This is a big country, Sarah. They won’t find us.”

“I won’t go with you.” The pain when he squeezed her arm nearly buckled her knees. “I’ll get away.” “If I must, I’ll keep you locked up, the way my mother was locked up. For your own good.”

She heard the horse even as he did and screamed out a warning. “No, Jake, he’ll kill you!” Then she screamed again, this time in pain, as Carlson bent her arm behind her back. Calmly he put the gun to her temple.

“It’s her I’ll kill, Redman. Come out slow and keep your hands where I can see them, or the first bullet goes in her brain.” He twisted her arm ruthlessly because he wanted Jake to hear her cry out again. He wanted Jake to hear the pain. “Now, Redman, or I’ll kill her and toss her body over the edge.”

“No. Oh, no.” Tears blurred her vision as she watched Jake step out into the open. “Please don’t. It won’t gain you anything to kill him. I’ll go with you.” She tried to turn her head to look into Carlson’s eyes.

“I’ll go anywhere you want.”

“Not gain anything?” Carlson laughed again, and it echoed off the rocks and air. “Satisfaction, my dear. I’ll gain satisfaction.”

“Are you hurt?” Jake asked quietly.

“No.” She shook her head, praying she could will him back behind the rock, back to safety. “No, he hasn’t hurt me. He won’t if you go back.”

“But you’re wrong, my dear, quite wrong.” Carlson bent his head close to hers, amused by the quick fury in Jake’s eyes when he brushed his lips over Sarah’s hair. “I’ll have to, you see, because you won’t understand. Unless I kill him for you, you won’t understand.

Your gunbelt, Redman.” Carlson drew back the hammer for emphasis and kept the gun tight against Sarah’s temple. “Take it off, slowly, very slowly, and kick it aside.”

“No!” She began to struggle, only to have him drag her arm farther up her back. “I’ll kill you myself.” She wept in rage and fear. “I swear it.”

“When I’m done here, my dear, you’ll do exactly what I say, when I say. In time you’ll understand this was for the best. Drop the belt, Redman.” Carlson smiled at him and jerked his head to indicate that he wanted the guns kicked away. “That’s fine.” He took the gun away from Sarah’s temple to point it at Jake’s heart. “You know, I’ve never killed a man before. It always seemed more civilized to hire someone- someone like yourself.” His smile widened. “But I believe I’m going to enjoy it a great deal.”

“You might.” Jake watched his eyes. He could only hope Sarah had the sense to run when it was over. Barker couldn’t be far behind. “Maybe you’ll enjoy it more when I tell you I killed your brother.”

The muscles in Carlson’s cheek twitched. “You bastard.”

Sarah screamed and threw her weight against his gun hand. She felt the explosion, as if the bullet had driven into her. Then she was on her knees. Life poured out of her when she saw Jake sprawled on the ground, blood seeping from his side.

“No. Oh, God, no.”

Carlson threw back his head and laughed at the sky.

“I was right. I enjoyed it. But he’s not dead yet. Not quite yet.” His lips stretched back from his teeth as he lifted the gun again.

She didn’t think. There was no room for thought in a mind swamped with grief. She reached out and felt the smooth grip of Jake’s gun in her hand. Kneeling in the dirt, she balanced it and aimed. “Samuel,” she murmured, and waited for him to turn his head.

The gun jumped in her hand when she fired. The sound of the shot echoed on and on and on. He just stared at her. Afraid she’d missed, Sarah drew back the hammer and calmly prepared to fire again.

Then he stumbled. He stared at her as his hand.; reached up to press against the blood that blossomed I on his shirtfront. Without a sound, he fell back. He groped once in the air, then tumbled off the edge and into the canyon.

Her hand went limp on the gun. Then the shudders began, racking shudders, as she crawled to Jake. He’d pushed himself upon one elbow, and he held his knife in his hand. She was weeping as she tore at her petticoats to pad the wound in his side.

“I thought he’d killed you. You looked-” There was so much blood, she thought frantically as she tore more cloth. “You need a doctor. I’ll get you on the horse as soon as-” She broke off again as her voice began to hitch. “It was crazy, absolutely crazy, for you to come out in the open like that. I thought you had more sense.”

“So did I.” The pain was searing, centering in his side and flowing out in waves of heat. He wanted to touch her, just once more, before he died. “Sarah…”

“Don’t talk.” Tears clogged her throat. His blood seeped through the pad and onto her hands. “Just lie still. I’m going to take care of you. Damn you, I won’t let you die.” He couldn’t see her face. Tired of the effort, he closed his eyes. He thought, but couldn’t be sure, that he heard horses coming. “You’re a hell of a woman,” he murmured, and passed out.

When he awoke, it was dark. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and a hollow throbbing at the base of his skull. The pain in his side was still there, but dull now, and constant. He lay still and wondered how long he’d been in hell.

He closed his eyes again, thinking it didn’t matter how long he’d been there, since he wouldn’t be leaving. Then he smelled her, smelled the soft scent that was Sarah. Though it cost him dearly, he opened his eyes again and tried to sit up.

“No, don’t.” She was there, murmuring to him, pressing him gently back on a pillow, then laying a cool cloth against his hot face.

“How long-” He could only manage two whispered words before the strength leaked out of him.

“Don’t worry.” Cradling his head with her arm, she brought a cup to his lips. “Drink a little. Then you’ll sleep again. I’m right here with you,” she continued when he coughed and tried to turn his head away. “Can’t-” He tried to focus on her face, but saw only a silhouette. It was Sarah, though. “Can’t be in hell,” he murmured, then sank back into the darkness…

When he awoke again, it was daylight. And she was there, leaning over him, smiling, murmuring something he couldn’t quite understand. But there were tears drying on her cheeks, cheeks that were too pale. She sat beside him, took his hand and held it against her lips. Even as he struggled to speak, he lost consciousness again.

She thought it would drive her mad, the way he drifted in and out of consciousness that first week, with the fever burning through him and the doctor giving her no hope. Hour after hour, day after day, she sat beside him, bathing his hot skin, soothing when the chills racked him, praying when he fell back into that deep, silent sleep.