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Jade. Ruth Langan
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Fear had Jade’s heart hammering, but she gave no outward sign. Instead, clutching her shawl firmly around her shoulders, she stepped from the carriage and faced her attackers.
“If it’s money you want—”
“Oh, we’ll help ourselves to your money. And…other things, as well.” At the leader’s suggestive words, his men began to laugh.
“Take off the shawl. I’d like to see what I’m getting.” He began to uncoil his whip.
Jade stood her ground, clutching her shawl even more tightly about her.
“I guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson, woman. When I give an order, I expect it to be followed without delay.” The whip snaked out, and in one quick, practiced movement snagged her shawl, tearing it from her.
His eyes narrowed when he saw what she’d been hiding beneath it. The jeweled handle of a small, deadly dagger glinted in her hand.
“You think you can use that knife against all these guns?” he sneered.
“Would you care to test my skill?” Fear clogged her throat, making her voice husky. But she had no intention of giving in to the terror that threatened. “Before your bullets can stop me, my blade will find your heart.”
At her words he sat up straighter in the saddle, regarding her in silence. “I guess I’ll just have to call your bluff.”
He lifted his arm to crack his whip. At the same moment Jade tossed her knife. Reflexively he twisted in the saddle. Instead of finding his heart, the blade bit deeply into his shoulder.
“Why, you little…” He let out a snarl of rage as he pried the knife free and tossed it aside. Then he gripped his flesh to stem the flow of blood.
Before his men could react, a series of gunshots rang out, sending them diving for cover. Another round of gunshots sent the dirt spraying directly beneath the feet of their leader’s horse.
“It must be a posse, Ned,” someone shouted. “Run.”
The leader gave one last glance at Jade, then wheeled his mount and beat a hasty retreat. With shouts and curses, the rest of his men followed, leaving Jade standing alone.
She turned in the direction of the gunshots, but could see nothing but a thick stand of trees. She waited, lifting a hand to shield the sun from her eyes, but no horsemen appeared.
“They’ve gone!” she shouted. “You drove them away!”
Her words were met with silence.
Puzzled, she bent and retrieved her knife from the dirt. It was still stained with the blood of her attacker. Clutching it in her hand, she strode toward the trees, calling, “You can come out now. We’re alone.”
The grove of trees was empty. There was no one there.
She turned to look in all directions, but could see no one.
She knelt and studied the dirt. It bore the unmistakable sign of a single set of hoofprints.
Could it be that there had been only one man? If so, he had been wise to keep his identity hidden from those gunmen. For they would surely have stood up to his gunfire and exacted revenge for his interference.
But why hadn’t he remained to reveal himself to her? She had a right to know who had saved her life. She wanted to thank him. And somehow reward him for his kindness.
After carefully studying the surrounding area, she returned to her carriage and took up the reins. As the horses set off at a brisk pace, reaction to what had almost happened began to set in. Despite the warmth of the sunlight, she couldn’t stop shivering. Her body was racked with tremors. She had no doubt that, without the appearance of her unknown savior, her fate would have been the same as that of the other victims of this vicious gang.
But who had saved her? And why had he chosen to keep his identity secret?
“A mystery man. How romantic,” Pearl said when Jade told her sisters what had happened.
Her husband, Cal, foreman of the Jewel ranch, tightened his grasp on his bride’s shoulder when he heard the news, and drew their adopted sons, Daniel and Gilbert, closer. It was one more thing to be concerned about. One more reason for the wranglers to keep a close eye on the women and children. “We’ll need to report this to the marshal.”
Jade nodded. “If it weren’t for my…mysterious rescuer, there would be something far worse to report.”
“Mystery man. Hah.” Diamond, ever the cynic, touched a hand to the gun at her hip. Her cowhide vest couldn’t hide the slight swelling of her middle, the only indication that she was expecting a baby. “What you need is a pair of six-shooters.” She glanced lovingly at her husband, Adam, who returned her smile with a wink. “Then you won’t need a man to save your hide. You can do it yourself.”
“I have my knife,” Jade said softly. “And I used it against their leader. But even a pair of pistols would not have been enough against those men. Without that mysterious gunman, I would never have survived.”
“I wonder who it was,” Diamond mused. “Most of the wranglers around here work for us, or for one of the other ranchers in the area.”
“Perhaps a passing cowboy,” Pearl suggested.
“But why wouldn’t he reveal himself to me?” Jade demanded.
“Could be a man on the run,” Adam said, recalling his own scrape with the law, when he’d been wrongly accused of murder.
Cal nodded. “A man outside the law wouldn’t want anyone to know he was in these parts.”
“You are all wrong. I know who it was, chérie,” Ruby said to Jade.
Everyone turned to the young woman, whose lips were curved into a knowing smile.
“It was your guardian angel.”
“What nonsense,” Diamond snapped.
“Nonsense! You do not believe in spirits?” Ruby’s eyes flashed. “In the bayou we know these spirits intimately.”
“Well, here in Texas—” Diamond began, but a question from Pearl silenced her.
“Didn’t you say you saw hoofprints?” Pearl asked gently.
Jade nodded.
Pearl turned to Ruby, determined that common sense would prevail. “I don’t think guardian angels ride horses.”
“What do you know?” The fiery beauty gave her sisters a haughty look. “Jade said the grove of trees was empty. Those prints could have been made hours earlier. You will need more than that to convince me that it was not a guardian angel that saved Jade.”
As Jade made her way to her room, she mulled over all that she had seen and heard. She was more confused than ever. Whether it was a spirit, a guardian angel or a flesh-and-blood man, she owed her life to this invisible protector.
Wade Weston yawned and stretched before tossing aside his bedroll and getting to his feet. He had decided against returning to his regular room at Millie Potter’s boardinghouse last night. Sometimes he needed to be alone. To get away from the fancy black suit and the starched white shirt and the polite words expected of a man of the cloth.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like people. Most of the time he enjoyed their company. Decent folks like Millie Potter and her three sweet daughters, April, May and June. And honest folks like Rufus Durfee and his fine, strapping boys, Damon and Amos. And lonely old folks like Yancy Winslow.
But there were times when he just wasn’t fit company. When the black moods came over him, blotting out all the good, the fine, the decent things of this world. Then he had to pull away, draw into himself and keep his own