He placed the chicken on the table and stepped out of the back door. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, and he couldn’t fault Jillian for escaping outdoors for a while. His step was lighthearted and for the first time in over a year he didn’t feel the oppressive weight of worry weighing on him.
Halfway up the path he heard a scream and froze. It was Jillian! He broke into a run, moving as fast as he possibly could in the direction of her cry. She came into view and his heart stopped. Penroth had his hands wrapped around her neck and she was valiantly trying to stave him off.
Justin bellowed in rage and flew across the distance between them. Penroth shoved Jillian aside as he turned to meet Justin’s attack. He rammed into Penroth and drove him to the ground. They rolled over and over as they fought wildly.
Months of pent up rage exploded within Justin as he whaled against Penroth. Images of Jillian’s battered face kept flashing over and over. “Let’s see how you deal with someone your size,” he growled as Penroth broke free and backed away, circling warily around Justin.
A conscious decision wavered on the edge of his thoughts. He would not let Penroth go this time. He would kill him with his bare hands for all that Jillian had endured at Penroth’s hands. Blinking, he caught sight of Jillian standing to the side, her fist knotted to her mouth.
“Get out of here, Jillian,” he yelled hoarsely. “Promise me, you’ll get as far from here as possible!Go.” He was prevented from saying anything more as Penroth, taking advantage of his distraction, slammed into him.
Jillian turned and fled towards the cottage, great sobs of fear racking her body. It seemed an eternity before she reached the door and wrenched it open. “Case!” she screamed. She looked frantically around and then stumbled and fell as she scrambled towards the bedroom.
She picked herself up and ran into the bedroom, throwing open Justin’s wardrobe.Where was Case? Frantically, she rummaged through the items until finally she felt the cold metal of a gun barrel. She snatched it up and scooped up the small pouch that held the balls. With shaking hands she loosened the opening to the pouch and reached inside for one of the heavy shots. She screamed in frustration as she dropped the sack, spilling the contents all over the floor. Dropping to her knees she hastily scooped up a ball and then reached into the wardrobe for the powder horn.
Just as Justin had shown her countless times, she loaded the small pocket pistol. Only, itmatteredthis time. A protective hand settled over her stomach as she rose and bolted for the door. She chanted a prayer over and over until it became a litany as she fled back up the path. As she topped the rise, her stomach lurched. Just a short distance away Lucas stood by the cliff’s edge and he was pointing a gun at Justin. His face was ragged and bleeding from the beating he had received. His hands shook but the gun never wavered from his target—Justin. Without a moment’s hesitation, she raised the pistol and cocked the hammer.
###
Justin stumbled back as Penroth swung at him again and when he looked back up he was staring down the muzzle of a gun. Where had it come from? His heart sank. He had failed. Let Case protect Jillian, he prayed. “I will always love you,” he whispered.
Determined not to die without killing the bastard that threatened Jillian, he prepared to launch himself full force at Penroth. Then a shot rang out and he reeled back. How odd, he felt no pain. He placed his hands over his body, sure he would feel his life’s blood draining away. Looking back up, he was shocked to see Penroth clutching his side and then he fell over the cliff. He ran forward and stared over the side just as Penroth’s body disappeared into the rising surf.
He whirled back around to see Jillian slump to the ground, one hand on her stomach and the other tightly gripping a pistol. Realization dawned and he rushed over to her. “Jillian, are you all right? Sweetheart, say something!”
Slowly her head came up and she stared at him with dull eyes. “I killed him,” she whispered. She looked down at the gun in her hand and shuddered. She dropped it hastily as if it burned her skin.
He swept her into his arms, rocking her back and forth as he held her tightly against him. Gently, he picked her up and walked slowly back towards the house. As they reached the cottage, Case burst out of the door. “What happened!” he demanded. “Is she all right? Is it the baby?”
Justin shook his head and walked past him and into the house. He deposited Jillian onto the sofa in the front room and cupped her face in his hands. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Are you hurt?”
She stared at him blankly as if she didn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“Get her a drink,” he barked at Case, who was standing in the doorway staring in concern.
Moments later he pressed a glass to her lips, forcing some of the liquid into her mouth. She blinked rapidly and then tears filled her eyes. “Oh God, Justin!”
He crushed her to him. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. He isn’t worth your tears.”
“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Case exploded.
“Penroth,” Justin muttered.
“Here?” Case asked incredulously.
“He attacked Jillian. He would have shot me, but Jillian got the pistol from my wardrobe and shot him before he could.”
Case stared openmouthed at them. “What?”
“I shot him,” Jillian said in a small voice.
He ran a hand through his hair and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. “Is he dead?”
“Yes,” Justin said in a clipped tone. “He fell over the cliff.”
“Good riddance,” Case murmured. “Jilly, are you all right? Should I send for the doctor?”
“She will be fine,” Justin said quietly. “Summon the constable instead.”
