Another voice sounded from behind her. “You’d better lay aside your gun and get out of here. All three of you. Now.”
Lorelei spun, her heart jumping at the familiarity in the tone. Riley. And Juniper.
Both her sister and brother-in-law held rifles pointed toward these trespassers. She’d not seen such a beautiful sight in a long time.
Breath finally reached her lungs as she turned back to the man in the pen. He’d caught the calf now, his arms locked around its front and rear in a tight hold. He turned Curly so the animal became a barrier in front of him. His fierce expression made the weight slam against her chest again.
“You’ll have to shoot this calf before you shoot me. And if you send a bullet into this fellow, you’ll have every Indian in the area down on your head.”
Had this man taken leave of his last sense?
She steadied her rifle aimed at him and added as much strength to her voice as she could muster. “You’ve touched him. Now it’s time to leave.”
“Don’t you worry. I’m goin’.” He shuffled the calf sideways toward the gate. Did he plan to take Curly with him?
“Let the buffalo go.” She had no problem infusing her voice with command this time.
Nook didn’t answer, just kept guiding Curly across the corral, keeping himself bent low enough that none of them could get a shot without striking the calf.
His friends didn’t move to help him, thank the Lord. They simply looked on with amused expressions.
She glanced back at Riley and Juniper. They still sat atop their horses, rifles trained on these men. They couldn’t do a lot to stop the fellow from taking Curly out of the gate, though, not from that distance and with the calf in the way.
She would have to handle that part.
Keeping a tight grip on her gun, she moved around to meet the would-be thief.
He reached the gate at the same time she did, and his dark eyes peeked up over Curly’s shoulders as their gazes met.Something danced in his expression. A glimmer of excitement. Did he think this a game? He would soon learn she was quite serious when it came to protecting animals—from scoundrels or any other threat.
But then a motion by the calf’s chest caught her notice.
A pistol. Pointed at her.
Once more, her chest constricted as she stared down its barrel. Smaller than the other man’s rifle but still pointed directly toward her. He was close enough that she made a sizable target.
Yet she couldn’t get a clear shot at him without hitting the calf.
His voice called loud enough for all to hear. “I’ve got a pistol aimed at this li’l gal. And I don’t mind pullin’ the trigger if she don’t get out of my way.”
How had he gotten a gun out while holding so tight to Curly?
What should she do? Would he really pull the trigger? Shoot a woman? A glance at his eyes showed the thrill had been replaced by dark intention.
Hewouldshoot her. Ol’ Henry and White Horse must be right about the value of a white buffalo calf in this land. Clearly some men took the superstition so much to heart that they were willing to kill over it.
Another motion behind Nook caught her focus, and she lifted her gaze just enough to see it.
White Horse. He’d slipped through the fence rails and was stalking silently toward the man, tomahawk raised.
She barely bit back a scream, but the thief caught the change in her expression. He craned his neck, and at the sight of White Horse, a small cry slipped from him.
Still, he didn’t release the calf. Instead, he tried to turn Curly. But when the buffalo wouldn’t move fast enough, he shifted his hands so one held around the calf’s side. He lifted his pistol in the other and aimed at White Horse.
Someone screamed. A gun exploded.
eight
Chaos erupted as Curly butted and bawled, breaking free of the man’s hold and scrambling toward the other side of the pen.
