"Just how many woman do you need, Slater?" Justin taunted.
Malachi walked around in front of him, aiming the Colt at his heart. Shannon looked gratefully to Iris as the red-haired woman freed her. Maybe she was a whore. Maybe she had been sleeping with Malachi. But they had come together to save her, and for that, she had to be grateful.
Iris flashed her an encouraging smile. Shannon rubbed her wrists.
"Can you stand, honey?" Iris asked.
"I—I think so."
But she couldn't. When she tried to rise, she fell back upon the tree. She was parched; she hadn't had water in hours. The nauseating taste of the drug remained.
Iris lent her an arm.
"Boy, captain, you do have it made. A whore and a wife, leaning on each other. That's mighty cute, Miss McCahy."
"It's Mrs. Slater," Shannon told him.
"Poor little fool. Can't you see what he's doing to you?"
"Iris, tie up his hands," Malachi directed.
Iris nodded, leaving Shannon against the tree. Shannon stood there, chafing her wrists, shivering as darkness fell and the coolness of the night came upon them. She watched as Iris walked toward Justin with firm purpose. Malachi tossed her a skein of rope.
But before Iris could reach him, Justin reached out, and grasped her and pulled her against him. He produced a knife from his calf, and caught it against her throat.
"Malachi, shoot him!" Iris called out.
Malachi didn't dare shoot; Justin would have slit her throat as easily as he breathed.
"Drop it, Slater," Justin advised.
Malachi reached out and dropped the Colt. But as he did so, he lunged.
Justin thrust Iris away from himself just as Malachi stormed against him. Justin had his knife; Malachi was unarmed. They rolled together. Malachi leaped to his feet. Justin swiped at him with the knife, and Malachi leaped again. The knife sliced through the air.
Malachi landed a blow against Justin's chin, but then Justin was swinging with the knife again.
Malachi was good. He was fast on his feet; he could whirl with the wind. But Justin was armed. Unless he was disarmed swiftly.
Shannon could barely move. She shook her head, trying to clear it, needing strength. Iris lay on the ground before her, trying to stagger up.
"Iris!"
The woman turned to look at her.
"The Colt. Give me the Colt."
"You'll hit…Malachi."
Shannon shook her head. She had to clear it. She crawled past the tree before falling to the ground. She couldn't quite reach Malachi's Colt.
Iris reached for it and swept it along the dirt to Shannon. For a brief moment their fingers touched. Shannon bit her lip, then smiled swiftly, encouragingly. Her fingers curled around the butt of the gun.
The men were still locked in deadly combat. Justin was on top of Malachi; Malachi was straining to hold the man's arm far above him, to escape the deadly silver blade of the razor-edged knife. Shannon blinked against the darkness and against her trembling fear and the nauseating aftereffects of the drug.
She aimed carefully, and then she fired.
She was a crack shot, and she proved it that night. She hit Justin right in the hand. His knife went flying as he screamed in pain, his fingers shattered.
Malachi pushed him away and reached for the knife. Stunned, he came up on the balls of his feet and looked at Shannon. He smiled slowly, smoothing back a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes.
"Thanks…darlin'," he murmured.
He stood, dusting off his pants. Justin Waller was rolling on the ground screaming.
"Bitch! I'll kill you, I swear, I'll kill you—"
"You aren't killing anyone else, Waller," Malachi said softly. "We're taking you back to Haywood, and they'll see that you hang."
"There ain't no wanted posters out on me, Slater."
"They're going to hang you for murder. Reba died this morning," Malachi said.
Justin let out a howl. "Your wife wanted it, Slater. She was smooth as silk to touch. She was better than that blond whore back in town. She screamed and cried and asked me far more and more."
Malachi stood still.
"But then, you can't imagine that whore. She wanted to live so badly. She begged me to stop."
"I'm not going to kill you, Justin," Malachi said. He walked over to where the man lay. "I'm not going to kill you. The war is over. I'm done killing. They'll hang you, and you aren't going to say anything to make me kill you now and cheat the hangman."
"You shoulda seen her scream."
Malachi ignored him. He started walking toward Shannon
"I'm going to kill you, Slater!" Justin raged. He stumbled to his feet and came running toward them. Cupping his bleeding hand beneath his good arm, he stumbled toward them and fell upon his rifle where it lay by the tree. Malachi started to spring for him.
Then a shot rang out. Justin Waller fell down dead.
Malachi and Shannon stared at one another, then turned and looked at Iris. She had a little ivory-handled pistol in her hand. A small waft of powder floated from it.
She looked from the dead man to Malachi. "You couldn't kill him, Malachi. I had to."
Malachi nodded at her. He walked over and retrieved his hat from where it had fallen in the dust, then he came back to Shannon.
"Can you ride with me?" he asked her.
She nodded.
"What about him?" Iris asked, referring to Waller.
"We'll put him on his horse and bring him back to Haywood. They can do what they want with him there. If they happened to know that he was at Centralia, they might butcher him up and feed him to the crows. I don't know. We're done here. We've got to get moving."
Iris nodded. Malachi brushed Shannon's forehead with a kiss, then nodded to Iris. Iris came forward and slipped her arm around Shannon while Malachi picked up the dead man, throwing him over his shoulder.
Shannon looked at Iris sickly. "He—he killed a woman?"
"A friend of mine," Iris said.
"The blond woman?"
Iris nodded. "Come on, honey. Let's get out of these woods. It's been a long day, and it's going to be a longer night."
Arm in arm with Iris, Shannon made her way through the bracken and trees. Malachi walked ahead of them.
They came to where a trail showed in the moonlight. The bay and her black gelding were there. Malachi tossed Justin's body over the bay and looked at the women. "I'm going to give the woods a look for his horse. Will you be all right?"
"Of course, sugar—er, uh, I mean, sure, Malachi," Iris said.
"I'm fine," Shannon added. She wasn't fine at all. She was sick to death and cold and shivering, but Justin was dead, and the danger was over. And Malachi had cared enough about her to come for her.
She had loved Robert Ellsworth. She had loved him very much.
But that didn't stop her from loving Malachi now. No matter what his relationship had been with Iris.
She couldn't even hate Iris anymore.
Malachi walked into the bushes and disappeared. Shannon must have weaved in the night breeze, because Iris quickly made a clucking sound. "Let's sit. It's all right here, I'm sure. We'd hear a rattler if there was one around anywhere."
"Iris," Shannon said softly, sitting down beside the redhead.
"What? I'm sure that there's really nothing to worry about—"
"Iris, I'm really sorry about the whiskey."
Iris inhaled sharply and her eyes fell on Shannon. "It's all right." She grimaced ruefully. "Most ladies do feel that way about whores."
"Oh, Iris, trust me! I didn't act like a lady!" She smiled, and then she laughed, and she realized she was glad because she had wondered if she would ever laugh again. Then she was afraid, because perhaps her laughter sounded hysterical. "Too bad you couldn't have met my pa, Iris. He would have explained in no uncertain terms that a lady wouldn't do things like that." She hesitated, then she smiled. "Pa would have said that you were quite a lady, Iris. Thank you for coming for me. You don't owe me anything. Even if you—even if you do sleep with my husband."