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Chapter 9
Shots fired from different sides all at once. Gabriel and the blacksmith dived in different directions. The biggest thug staggered back but didn’t fall. Blood dripped from his shoulder.
“You shot me!” He seemed quite surprised that Gabriel hadn’t missed his target.
Gabriel had missed the man’s heart on purpose. He was an excellent marksman, but he didn’t find killing a human to be an honorable duty. Although, for Evie, he could probably revise his beliefs.
Gabriel got up, confident that the thugs emptied their pistols. “I think you better leave, now.”
“Bugger all.” The smallest thug took out a knife and charged at Gabriel.
Gabriel blocked his attack and threw a blow to the side of the thug’s face. All the days spent in Gentleman Jackson’s were finally paying off. The thug staggered to the side and sat on the ground.
Gabriel turned to see that the blacksmith had felled one of his attackers and was fending off the bigger one.
“Oi! My wife’s already safe at home; you might want to give up!” Gabriel yelled. The thug got distracted, just as he planned, and the blacksmith used this moment to plant a major blow to the thug’s jaw.
In a flash, Gabriel felt himself being thrown to the ground. He rolled in the dirt, and a moment later, his previous adversary straddled him and punched him in his face.
Not the face.My face is my only asset.
Gabriel blocked one more hit and rolled, reversing the positions with his attacker. He hit his assailant on the nose, his own knuckles screaming with pain. Hitting a person in the face with bare knuckles was not something Gabriel regularly did, and he immediately wished to never do so again.
Unfortunately, his attacker didn’t subside after taking a punch, and Gabriel was forced to drive a couple more shots to his jaw and cheek. The adrenaline overtook his body, and he didn’t feel the pain anymore. He was governed by the drive to silence the man beneath him, to stop him and all others from coming after his Evie.
A moment later, he felt huge hands dragging him off the limp body on the ground.
“It’s all right; he’s done for,” the blacksmith said roughly.
Gabriel nodded and wiped the blood off his face. His hand was bleeding and swollen, pain radiated from his fingers, and his nose was in agony as well.
“I’ll have the boys take care of them. But you can’t go to your bride looking like that,” the blacksmith continued, looking Gabriel over from head to toe. “Come, I’ll clean you up.” He beckoned Gabriel back to his smithy, and Gabriel followed.
“I know just the thing to make the pain go away,” the blacksmith said as Gabriel returned to the stone over which he had been wed a few minutes ago. The blacksmith rummaged through the cupboard and, a moment later, returned to Gabriel and put a bottle of fine scotch on the wedding stone with a loud clunk.
* * *
Evie ran panting back to the inn. She mounted the stairs, hiking up her skirts high and taking two steps at a time. The innkeeper probably thought her deranged. She didn’t give a fig about that. She needed to come up with a plan and fast.
There were three bandits, and two of them had pistols and were rather large. Even if Gabriel evaded the bullets, she was certain he would lose in the hand-to-hand battle. The blacksmith looked capable enough, but Gabriel was a gentleman. He wasn’t groomed for a street fight.
Evie got to the room and looked around. Surely, Gabriel had a pistol lying around somewhere. She walked to his valise and started sifting through his things.
She shouldn’t have left. Perhaps she could help fight them off. If she found a stick big enough to hit someone, or perhaps… She stopped and expelled a deep breath. Or she would’ve distracted Gabriel and got him killed. There were three thugs. One of them could have grabbed her, and Gabriel wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
Had he hit his target? She didn’t know whether he was a good shot or not. She knew he always refused to duel. Perhaps that was because he was a poor marksman.
What if he got shot and killed because of her?What if he gets killed now while I sit here contemplating the possibility?
Evie resumed looking through his things.
She found a pistol at the bottom of his valise and carefully took it out. It was large and heavy, a lot different from her tiny revolver. Evie cursed under her breath. Heavy or not, foreign or not, she needed to figure out how to use it. Or Gabriel would be dead.
She checked the gun and groaned in frustration. It was empty.
Right. She needed to find gunpowder. She went back to rummaging through his valise, tears of frustration burning her eyes. Even if she found the powder, she’d have to clean the gun and load it, and it would take a lot of time. Curse Gabriel for not thinking ahead.
She shook herself. Now was not the time to get irritated. Perhaps she couldn’t load the gun, but she needed to find something she could use to help him.
