AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Despite her efforts, a spark of fear slipped through her guard. Elizabeth ignored the rumblings of the other men in the bar. Her gaze focused on the widest spot between Brent’s eyebrows. If he made one move in her direction, he was dead. “Are you through?”
“No. While you may want to forget our marriage took place yesterday, the law isn’t so flexible.” The smile he spread around the room was an open invitation for the other males to commiserate with his position.
She didn’t have enough bullets in her gun to shoot the men who met Brent’s smile with an understanding one of their own. Deep inside, the shuddering started. Oh God! What if they all turned on her? She searched the room with her eyes, looking for a friendly face. Her gaze collided with a dark set of eyes in the corner. The big man sat, his back braced against the wall. Despite the laziness of his posture, there was something in the set of his shoulders that told her he was as intent on the conversation as everyone else. His gaze was steady, unnerving, but somehow soothing, as if inviting her trust. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe in the invitation, but if all hell broke loose, she hoped he’d be in the small contingent on her side.
“We are married, Elly,” Brent pronounced, turning back to her, his position obviously bolstered by the silent communion with the other patrons. “The Rocking C is mine.”
“If that were the case,” Elizabeth countered calmly, allowing no uncertainty into her voice, “I’d not be wasting a perfectly good bullet by letting it sit in this gun.”
She might be losing her mind, but she swore the big man with the dark eyes just gave her the thumbs up as he tipped his hat back. Even with the dim light, there was no mistaking the handsomeness of his face or the self-confidence in his expression. Since she had a need, she took some of his self confidence as her own. As a result, her voice, when she continued, betrayed nothing but strength. “Lucky for you, our marriage wasn’t legal.”
“The hell it wasn’t! Reverend!”
Elizabeth followed the trajectory of Brent’s gaze to the far corner of the saloon. A crow of a man garbed in black sat slumped over a table. When Brent bellowed again, the form shifted, moaned, and then raised its head.
“Wh-what?”
“Reverend? Was the wedding you performed yesterday legal?”
“It’s as legal as the parties involved want it to be,” the haggard man muttered before leaning to the side of the table and retching violently.
Beyond a flinching of her right eyelid, Elizabeth didn’t let on that the sound or sight bothered her.
“Let me clarify things for you, Brent,” she offered in that same controlled tone she’d used since walking through the swinging doors. “Because the circuit priest comes through here so rarely, the territory has been recognizing weddings performed by Reverend Pete under common law. As long as both parties are satisfied with the union, there’s no problem.” Her shoulder lifted on a shrug. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not satisfied.”
Brent wiped at his eyes, stared at the blood on his pants, and looked down the barrel of the revolver. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he finally burst out.
“I’m saving my ranch from the hands of a wastrel.”
“You’re saving your ranch!” He dropped his head back against the wall and laughed. “That’s a hoot! The reason it was so easy to pull the wool over your eyes in the first place was because you were in such a big hurry to get married.” He stopped laughing long enough to drive his point home. “Or did you forget the way the men won’t take orders from a woman? Or the way the bank won’t extend credit to a woman? Or the way rustlers have been swooping down on your precious ranch for the last three months ever since word got out that Coyote Bill’s dead?”
“I haven’t forgotten a thing.”
“Then you know you need me.”
“No.”
“Yes, you do. You need me to run your ranch, just as I need your ranch to fund my amusements.”
“What I need is a man, Brent Doyle, and I’m afraid that requirement leaves you out in the cold.”
“She needs a man in more ways than one,” someone interjected from the sidelines.
Elizabeth bit back the retort that sprang to her lips and let the room’s inhabitants amuse themselves with speculation. She had bigger fish to fry. She searched the room for her friend. When she spotted Old Sam at the bar, she gave him the signal. Before she finished the subtle nod, he was nodding back and rising from his chair. She shifted her grip on the revolver, took a breath and started praying as she followed his progress from the corner of her eye while keeping her gun aimed on Brent. As she suspected, he headed for the table to her right. The closer he got to the stranger with the dark eyes and easy confidence, the harder she prayed. Anyone with a chin that stubborn wouldn’t be easy to sway. And she so needed him to lean her way.
