“I reckonyou’ll be moving along with what you brought, friend.”
From nowhere, the mandrew a rifle and levelled it at Mr Wade. “Who’s gonna stopme?”
Every one of Hope’smuscles seized. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could only stareat the barrel of the rifle pointed at them.
Mr Wade, though, appearedunaffected. “I’m hoping your conscience will, but if that don’twork, then I reckon I’ll have to.”
“With what?That itty-bitty peashooter at your hip?” The man used the rifle togesture at her. “Or maybe this one here will fight your battles foryou.”
“There’sstill time, friend.” How could Mr Wade be calm? How? “Moveon.”
The man cocked his rifle,aimed. “Who’s gonna make me?”
The crack of a gun splitthe air.
The man’s surprisedexpression was almost comical. He slid from his horse, landing onthe ground with a dull thud.
Mr Wade started to swear.He holstered his gun and strode to the man, kicking the man’s gunto the side. “Stupid goddamn idiot. Why did you force my hand? Wecould have ended this peaceably.”
The man justgroaned.
Crouching next to him, MrWade examined the damage wrought. Apparently satisfied, he rose tohis feet and turned disgruntled eyes to her. “Pick up thegun.”
Numbly, she did as told.The rifle was heavy in her hands, the metal and woodcold.
Suddenly, she couldn’tbreathe. Everything went distant, and the thundering in her earscompeted with the ring of a gunshot and her mother’s screams. Herfather lay on the floor, the pool of red beneath his head growinglarger with every second….
Squeezing her eyes shut,she forced breath through her mouth. A soft breeze. Gently wavinggreen. Distant laughter.
Years, eonspassed.
Slowly, panic receded.Exhaling shakily, she turned the rifle over in herhands.
“Wanna hangon to it, darlin’?”
Blinking, she raised hergaze. Mr Wade hadn’t noticed, so it couldn’t have been more thanseconds. “Pardon?”
Mr Wade lifted his chinat the gun she held in her hands. “The rifle. Wanna keep it? Mightbe you’ll feel a tad safer with it strapped to yoursaddle.”
“I couldn’ttake this man’s firearm, Mr Wade.”
“Why not? Hewas seeking to take our belongings.”
Mutely, she held therifle out to him.
He shrugged. “Suityourself.” Taking the rifle, he dismantled the weapon in moments,dropping the pieces near the still moaning man. Returning to her,he placed his hand at the small of her back. “Well then, the day’sa-wasting. Let’s get to it.”
Even after everything,the polite move surprised her. Her brows shot up, the feel of hishand warm and heavy against her. His grin didn’t slip, but hischeeks ruddied some.
Her gaze drifted to theman Mr Wade had shot. He was moaning softly, his hands clutched tohis side and stained red. Her stomach clenched. “What abouthim?”
Mr Wade shrugged. “Itwon’t kill him. The nearest town’s a day’s ride from here, and themain trail is less than a mile. Someone will come across him, if hedon’t rescue himself. He’ll be fine.”
“What if heisn’t?”
“Then hewon’t be. I warned him, Miz McElroy. More than once.”
It was true. He had.Rubbing her arms, Hope looked away from the injured man. The manwho would have injured them.
