Название | Cooper's Wife |
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Автор произведения | Jillian Hart |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
The stage door burst open. Anna choked, unable to scream. A masked man fired a gun. The passenger fired, then slumped over. Burly arms tossed the brave man and his gun on the dusty road.
They’d killed him. Shock washed through her. Anna couldn’t breathe. What was to become of them? She heard voices outside the stalled stage. They were laughing.
Laughing. How dare they? No one had the right to take joy in an innocent man’s death. Hot rage tore through her midsection. She’d seen just about enough of men’s violent ways.
“Get out,” a gruff voice ordered from the doorway.
Anna swung her reticule. It smacked the aimed revolver from the outlaw’s hand to the floor at her feet. “Stop this killing right now.”
Shock rounded his eyes. “Lady—”
“I said, enough.” She pushed at the scruffy brute’s chest. No one should be hurt because Dalton wanted her. “Where is he?”
A brutish laugh. “What kind of woman do we have here? I like a lady with some fight.”
Why was he laughing? Anna took one look at the cold glitter in the outlaw’s eyes, and her courage wavered.
Three other robbers stood on the road behind him, armed and mean-looking. They weren’t Jennings’ men. And now she’d made them angry. What would they do?
“This is the first thing I intend to take from you.” Cruel blue eyes laughed at her over the edge of a dirty red bandanna.
She gasped as the masked man tore the cloth bag from her wrist. A snap of pain bit her skin. Her money! This time it wasn’t tucked away in her sleeve. What was left of her life’s saving was dug out of the now ragged reticule.
A twisted gleam sparked in the villain’s eyes. “I’ll be back for more from you.”
He gave her a shove. Anna’s knees buckled and she lost her balance. Her shoulder slammed into the side of the coach. She hit the ground hard, tasting dust. Already the outlaw was reaching into the coach, sunlight glinting off the nose of his revolver. Mandy was in there, defenseless.
“No!” Anna launched forward, stumbled, then found her feet. She grabbed at the outlaw, pulling at his shirt. “Leave her alone. She’s my child. She—”
A gunshot split the air. Then another. She felt a fiery pain. Blood fell across her sleeve. Was she shot?
“Come here, little girl,” the blue-eyed outlaw cooed. “I won’t hurt ya.”
“No!” Anna hit him hard with her shoulder, trying to knock him aside. “Don’t you touch her.”
The outlaw spun from the coach and raised his hand. She saw the blow coming. He struck her face hard enough to make her ears ring. The pain seemed distant. It was nothing compared to her fear for Mandy. She dropped to her knees. Dizziness spun through her head. Tears stung her eyes as she pulled herself to her feet. She would stop that villain. She would protect her child.
Then voices filled the air. She looked up, confused. She heard shouts of “It’s the law!” and “Jed, where’s my mare?” and “the gold, it’s getting away!” and then “Run!” Gunfire popped as she jumped to her feet. Already the outlaw had run from the stage, leaving Mandy untouched inside.
“Looks like the law’s here.” The banker climbed out, his voice low, sweat beading on his forehead. “She’s scared but all right. You’d better take cover, ma’am.”
“After I get my daughter.” She had to shout over the gunfire. “Don’t wait for us. Those rocks over there should shelter you.”
Horses thundered past. Guns fired so close, it hurt her ears. A stray bullet lodged into the side of the coach. She had to hurry. She reached through the doorway. “Come, grab my hand.”
She saw a peaked face, eyes wide with fright. Mandy crawled off the seat. “That’s right.” Anna leaned forward and caught the child’s hand.
Then the stage rocked hard. Small fingers clutched hers and held tight, then were wrenched from her grip. The stage shot forward. The frame slammed into her jaw and cheek, then her shoulder, knocking her to the ground.
“Mandy!” She held the child’s glove in her hand. Cold horror washed over her as the driverless stage rattled up the road. In a flash she saw the danger, all that could happen. She leaped to her feet, already running hard. “Mandy. Jump!”
Gunfire, bullets and mounted riders swirled around her. She kept running. She had to get to Mandy before something happened. Before the stage crashed or tumbled over the narrow edge of the trail and down the mountain.
Air wheezed out of her lungs. Pain slashed through her side. She was almost there. Almost gaining. Every step brought her closer to catching hold of the boot and climbing aboard. Every step brought her closer to saving her daughter. She reached out and just missed the heavy leather strap holding the luggage to the rear of the coach. She reached again.
One back wheel hit a boulder. The vehicle careened to one side and skidded sideways. She watched in horror as the front right wheel struck another boulder. The stage rolled over and landed on its top, hesitating at the edge of the road. It tottered, then tumbled forward.
“No!” Anna skidded down the embankment, flew down the edge of the mountain. Rocks cascaded beneath her feet. She slid, went down. Pain skidded up her leg when she crashed into a low scrubby pine.
Breathing hard, she broke free and kept running. All she could see was the stage, rolling end over end, falling apart each time it struck the ground. An axle broke with a crash. Two wheels flew through the air and hit the ground rolling. A door came off. The vehicle hit the earth so hard, the sound of the impact cracked like thunder across the face of the mountainside.
And Mandy was inside. Anna had to get to her. She tasted the grit of dust and dirt in her mouth, felt them in her eyes. Her feet gave out beneath her, and she skidded on loose rock and earth. Time stood still as she watched, her heartbeat frozen. The stage rolled over the edge of a cliff and out of sight.
No sound of impact, just the eerie silence of falling. No. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t lose her daughter, her whole heart. Anna fought for balance, but the earth beneath her feet gave way. Rocks and gravel and bits of stubby grass tumbled ahead of her. She saw the bright sheen of the sun flash in her eyes.
She scrambled, struggling for any purchase, any solid tree root or boulder that would stop her fall. She had to save Mandy. She would not let her daughter die.
“Sheriff, Corinthos is getting away.”
Cooper spun his palomino and headed toward the snowy ridge. His deputies could take care of the robbers, but he wanted Corinthos, the leader of the gang. He was sick of the killing and carnage in this part of the county. It was his job and his responsibility to end it.
The outlaw swung his gelding around and fired.
Cooper shot back. A direct hit. Corinthos’ gloved left hand covered his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers. Shock lined his dirt-smudged face as he slipped from the saddle.
Got him. Cooper felt grim satisfaction as he cocked the Colt, ready in case the outlaw drew on him again. He drove his mount closer to the fallen man. A woman’s cry of distress and then a crack of wood breaking spun him around. A woman?
Before he could contemplate that, he caught sight of the six runaway horses, still harnessed, dragging the dangerously tipping stage around the bend in the road. Cooper kicked his stallion into a gallop just as the harness broke apart. The coach tumbled over the edge.
The woman, blond hair flying, screaming as she ran, jumped feet first down the dangerous mountainside and out of sight. Crazy woman. Whatever she had in the stage wasn’t more valuable than her life. Flint Creek Mountain was