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“Pulling that piece will make this a lot messier than it needs to be, boy.”
“That’s the point—old man. Any of you come near her and I’ll shoot you without an ounce of remorse.”
The old man grinned again. “She ain’t worth dying for, son. Believe me. She barely cleans, can’t cook if her life depended on it, and bedding her is like laying with a corpse.”
“Then why are you here?”
His mouth flattened into a harsh slash across his face. “Cause she’s mine, that’s why! She ran off and left me for dead and after all I did for her, she owes me.”
“I owe you nothing,” Morning Dove said. She peeked around his shoulder before gripping his arm. “I do not belong to you, Walter.”
Walter. He hadn’t remembered the man’s name, but he’d not forget it now. Nor would he forget his face.
Walter leaned down, propping his hands on the saddle pommel. “You want him to live, girl?” Morning Dove stiffened at his back. “Then I suggest you get your worthless ass over here.”
Ben pushed her back behind him again. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Walter grinned and sat up straight, but said nothing. Ben knew why the moment he heard a branch breaking behind him.
Morning Dove gasped as he turned. Pain exploded inside his skull a second later. Everything from that moment on happened in a blur of movements he had a hard time tracking.
The two men still on their horses jumped to the ground, Morning Dove’s screams adding to the ache still crawling through his head. His knees gave out as a sudden wave of nausea made his stomach churn.
The third cowboy who’d been in the saloon that day stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t know what he’d hit him with, but his vision was going in and out, small sparks of light flashing before his eyes and every time he moved his head, everything went black.
Ben laid there, blinking past the pain and listened to the struggle going on around him. Something warm was trickling over his forehead and into his eyes and Morning Dove was still screaming, but laughter nearly overpowered the sound of it.
A well placed boot hit his back, low on the right side. He gasped at the pain it caused and felt his stomach heave again, and he fought to keep from throwing up.
His ass had been handed to him more than once in his life, but as the men who’d tossed him out of the saloon came at him, feet and fist hitting hard on his flesh, he knew this beating would be his last.
“Enough!”
The blows stopped, and Ben gasped through the pain and opened his eyes. Walter had Morning Dove on his horse in front of him. He could see Wind Chaser running up the hill behind them. The commotion scared her away, at least. Hopefully she’d run home and alert Aaron and Betsey that something was wrong.
He must have passed out because when he looked up again, he was sitting on Cash’s back and Morning Dove was screaming, fighting to break free of Walter’s hold on her.
His head pounded, and he could feel blood running down the back of his neck and over the side of his face. His vision was still messed up but he could see everyone was back on their horses. Were they letting him go?
He struggled to stay upright and tried to focus his attention on Walter. The old bastard had his arm around Morning Dove, his knuckles white where he gripped the material of her dress. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes filled with a wild terror he’d never seen on anyone’s face before.
“Please, do not do this!” Her screams were filled with a desperate panic that made his heart pound in his chest. She struggled and cried and he didn’t understand what was happening until Cash took a step forward and he felt something tighten around his neck. That’s when he noticed they’d bound his hands.
He blinked as confusion clouded his mind. Morning Dove’s screams grew until Walter grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back.
“Shut up or I’ll kill him right in front of you!”
She whimpered and bit her lip, her sobs muffled by the action.
Ben looked at the three cowboys from the saloon who now sat on their horses staring at him, their grins confusing. Something tugged at his neck when Cash took another step. He tried to look behind him but couldn’t turn his head but a fraction. That’s when he realized a slight pressure around his neck.
Morning Dove’s panicked screams from before hit him like a brick to the head when he looked up. He was under the tree, a rope tied to a branch high above his head. Shit. They were going to hang him.
He looked over at Morning Dove and met her gaze. He’d wasted months hiding behind fear of rejection and now, he was going to die without ever getting to love her properly. So many things left unsaid filled his head, but he couldn’t get a single one of them out of his mouth.
Walter grabbed his horse's reins and gave them a tug. “Say goodbye, Morning Dove.”
She sobbed again and tried to say his name, but it came out as a broken whisper as Walter urged his horse back across the creek.
