"Garvey, I'm warning you. Don't—"
"You ain't in no position to be givin' orders. No, sirree, you ain't."
Ash drew in a shuddery breath as Garvey skimmed the blade up the curve of her jaw, laying its razor-sharp edge against her left cheek.
"How you think this lady's gonna look with her face all laid open? How you think she's gonna look with her face so slashed up you won't even be able t' look at her, let alone touch her, boy?"
Ash's breath hissed between her teeth as he pressed the blade a whisper harder.
She heard Garret curse.
"Put the gun down, MacQuade, or the woman bleeds."
Ashleen saw Garret warring with himself and knew he must be thinking his weapons were their only chance. If he surrendered them, he and the children would die as well.
"Don't do it, Garret! The little ones—they need—" She gritted her teeth as Garvey made the knife tip bite flesh, a slight burning stinging her cheek. She felt a warm droplet of blood gather and trickle down.
"Stop it, Garvey! Damn it!" Garret took a step toward them, his voice threaded through with desperation, hopelessness, fury. "The gun's down, damn it. It's down." Slowly he lowered the pistols, his eyes locking with Ashleen's. She could feel the pain in him, the despair, the crushing guilt.
"Garret, don't—"
"I can't let him—let him cut you, lady." She saw Garret's eyes slide closed for a second. "I can't—"
"MacQuade, yer bringin' tears t' my eyes. Now drop them guns and get down off that roof. Slow like. Real slow."
The thud of the guns hitting the dirt was like a death knell, and Ash felt tears stream down her cheeks as she watched Garret make his way toward the roof's edge.
"That's right, MacQuade. Do it slow an' easy, an' I might kill your woman quick, 'stead of long an' lingerin' like when we've tended t' our business. Spent some time with the Comanch', ye know, an' learned... hell, I learned how t' draw out pain like a fiddle player tightenin' a string. Ye could ask yer friend Kennisaw how damn good I am at dishin' out pure agonies, 'ceptin' he was coward enough t' die of 'em."
Ash saw a muscle tick in Garret's jaw, felt the rage building in him, just beneath the surface. She knew Garvey was trying to bait him into doing something rash, something foolish.
Somehow Garret managed to cling to what small rein he held on his temper.
"Let her go, Garvey," he said levelly. "It's me you want."
Cain barked a laugh. "An' I could flay yer skin off a layer at a time, an' you wouldn't tell me the sky's blue, would ye, MacQuade? Naw, yer jest like yer pa. Stubborn as hell."
"I'll give you what you want, Garvey. If you let Ashleen and the children go. Give them a good head start, and—"
"You think I'm stupid, MacQuade? I ain't Eli—ain't a damn half-wit. I let her go, you'll jest grit yer teeth an' let me kill ye any way I want. Ye won't even give me the pleasure o' hearin' ye scream. Naw, sir. You got anythin' to say 'bout the gold, boy, you'd best do it now. I been sharpenin' this knife for three nights jest waitin't' get hold o' yer woman. An' I'm gettin' real jittery, boy. Yep. Jest real anxious t' see her bleed."
"Damn it, I told you, I have—have what you want. The gold."
Ashleen felt panic roiling within her, knowing that Garret was wagering their lives upon a lie—a lie that would further infuriate the animal that held her in its grasp.
"Prove it." Garvey snarled. "Here."
Ashleen held her breath, certain that his fury would break free, but Garret's voice was cool, deceptively calm, threaded through with danger.
"There's a nugget of pure ore in my pocket right now, Garvey," he said, stopping inches from the roof's edge.
"Yeah, right next to your palm gun."
"You know damn well I wouldn't shoot with Ashleen in front of you. You want me to prove I know where the gold is. I'm willing to do it."
Garvey shifted the knife, the point digging into the soft flesh under Ashleen's chin. "All right, MacQuade. But mebbe we'll up the stakes a little. One false move an' I'll slit her throat an' be done with it. Understand?"
With excruciating care Garret slipped his hand into his pocket, Ashleen's heart threatening to beat its way out of her chest. A thousand prayers roiled inside her, her mind whirling as she struggled desperately to figure out what wild plan Garret had conjured up, what crazed move he was going to make in an attempt to save her.
