AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“My husband does. He’ll be heading this way any minute.”
“That little piss-ant gambler isn’t going to do squat. And you know it.”
“He will!”
“Then why don’t you scream for him?”
That’s what Asa wanted to know as he headed to the rescue. He heard a gasp, then a man’s muttered curse of pain. “Bite me, will you, hellcat?”
Asa was around the corner of the hen house before the last syllable died, and what he saw drove reason from his head. The cowhand had his fingers dug into his wife’s breast. He was using it to hold her pinned to the rough wall. The other arm, he was shaking, trying to dislodge her teeth from his wrist.
With a sharp blow of his hand, Asa broke Jimmy’s grip on his wife. Before he could follow with a second, Elizabeth was between them. She drove the hard toe of her boot into her tormentor’s groin and Jimmy doubled over. Elizabeth was on him with the ferocity of a badger. Her hair tumbled out of its bun as she grabbed a chunk of firewood and walloped the man on the back. Her breath hissed between her teeth, punctuated with violent mutterings. As Jimmy dropped to his knees, Asa took a step back.
His wife clearly had the situation in hand.
He shook his head as she walked in front of the convulsed man. The move clearly showed her a green horn at this kind of thing. He caught her arm. When she spun around, wood raised, he plucked it from her hand.
“Shh,” he soothed, pulling her into his arms. “It’s all right.”
Instead of fainting with relief like he expected, she struggled. “Let me go.”
“Why?”
“I want to kick him in his filthy mouth.”
Asa eyed Jimmy. “Not now you don’t.”
“Yes, I—”
The sounds of violent retching cut off her claim.
She stood stiffly in his arms. “Well, maybe not now.”
“I’d be saving it for later.” He looked down at the undulating waves of hair that fell over his arms, reinforcing the impression of dainty femininity his body was responding to. He smiled. “Were you planning on leaving a piece of him for me to whale on?”
“No.” The answer vibrated dead center below his breastbone.
“Good thing I stepped in then.”
That brought her gaze to his. Instead of the tears he expected, he saw an open challenge that baffled him. He turned his attention to something he did understand.
From the sound of things, Jimmy was about done puking up his guts. Asa set Elizabeth carefully away from him. He kept his hands on her shoulders until he was sure she wasn’t going to keel over. She was as steady as a rock, leaving the comforting words he intended to say sitting awkwardly on his tongue.
“You came out here looking for eggs?”
She nodded, catching the fall of hair into her hands and twisting it into a knot at the base of her neck. He didn’t miss her wince as she moved her right shoulder. The bastard had probably hurt her good.
“Why don’t you go get them while I clean up around here?”
He grabbed Jimmy by the collar and hauled him to his feet. As she straightened from retrieving her basket, he called her name. She paused and looked up.
“Next time you even think some yahoo’s backing you into a corner, I want you screaming loud enough to do a banshee proud.”
She merely nodded.
“And Elizabeth?”
“Yes.”
“You’re Mrs. MacIntyre now.”
Beyond a thinning of her lips, she didn’t respond.
Asa wondered if he’d ever understand his wife. Yanking Jimmy in front of him, he headed for the barn. Besides teaching this yellow bastard some manners, he needed to let loose some frustration.
* * * * *
Supper wasn’t the friendly meal he’d been hoping for. By the time Asa finished his third helping of cobbler, he felt like he sat in the middle of a powder keg. To make it worse, Elizabeth kept shooting him glances he didn’t understand. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset, but remembering her temper, he sure as shooting didn’t want to risk it being the former. Not on his wedding night, so if his mouth wasn’t chomping on food, he kept it closed.
“Would you care for more cobbler?” she asked from her side of the table.
“No. Thank you.” He placed his napkin beside his plate, wincing as he did so. Two fights in one day were hell on his knuckles.
“We have an ice house,” she offered.
“What?”
“I said if you’d like to soak your hands, there’s probably enough ice for you to do it.”
He’d heard of ice houses, sure, but he’d never experienced the luxury of ice in August. He wasn’t about to pass it up. “That would sure be appreciated.”
Ten minutes later, she was back. In her hands was a large tin basin that made bell-like tinkles as she walked. He kept his expression bland, not wanting to appear a bumpkin. She placed the basin before him on the table. Before he could lift his hands, she had them in hers. Each one was carefully inspected before she placed it in the basin. Her face was tight as she pushed his right hand under the chilled water and said, “Thank you.”
