Page 29 of Redeeming the Outlaw
“Where’s Brodie?” he drawled.
Whit recognized him as one of the two travelers who cameinto the mercantile looking for a lost relative.
As the man’s menacing strides brought him closer to Esther, Whit felt a tightness in his chest. Suddenly, Brodie appeared like a striking snake from behind the intruder, swiftly slicing his knife across the man’s throat with cold and brutal precision.
A spray of blood splattered across Esther’s face, and she let out a piercing scream which tore through the night air. Her eyes filled with tears, and she cried out in horror, unable to tear her gaze away from the gruesome sight.
“Get a hold of yourself, girl!” Brodie barked, grabbing the limp body by the collar and dragging it into the dark woods beyond the camp.
Whit moved to Esther’s side, wiping the blood from her face with the sleeve of his shirt. His chest tightened as he saw the terror etched onto her features, and a surge of anger coursed through him.
As a gloom settled over the camp like a shroud, Whit knew they were running out of time. He had to make his move soon or risk losing everything.
Brodie came back, and Whit scowled at him. “Friend of yours?” he asked.
“Someone who is no longer useful,” Brodie said gleefully. “He located Ma’s grandson. The boy was right under our noses. Still no sign of Evangeline but give it time. I have no use for him, now.”
A loud bang reverberated, followed by a hissing sound. Esther screamed as Whit turned around to see Austin laying on his back staring up at the sky through lifeless eyes.
Brodie’s men started shooting in the dark at any moving shadow.
Whit grabbed Esther and pulled her to the ground.
“Esther, stay down and keep close to me,” he whispered urgently, scanning the darkness for any sign she had been hit.
“I’m all right,” she yelled over the melee.
“Why ain’t you fighting, Moore?” Brodie yelled. “You yellow?” he asked, pointing his gun toward Whit.
Whit raised his Colt and fired several shots above Briggs’ head, hoping to buy himself some time. The crack of gunfire filled the air, mingling with the shouts of outlaws and lawmen alike.
“Lord, please protect us,” Esther murmured under her breath, her eyes squeezed shut in fear. Whit glanced at her; concern etched on his face.
“Stay low,” he instructed her, knowing if anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
“Whit!” an outlaw sneered from behind him. “Ya ain’t even shooting proper! Ya trying to help ‘em?”
“Hush!” Whit retorted, anger flaring in his chest. He turned and took aim before firing his gun again, this time grazing the fleshy part of Marshal Briggs’ arm. The marshal grunted in pain, instinctively dropping his own weapon.
“See?” Whit spat at the outlaw; his voice was bitter. “That’s how you shoot.”
Whit’s fingers squeezed the trigger, sending two bullets slicing through the air and piercing the outlaw’s chest. Without hesitation, he grabbed Esther by the waist and lifted her onto the back of a nearby horse.
He swung his own body onto the saddle behind her, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he spurred the horse forward toward safety.
As their horses thundered out of the far end of the camp, Whit’s eyes scanned the edges for any signs of danger. Then hesaw his brother Rex, hidden between the bushes, with a look of disbelief on his face. They locked eyes for a split second before Whit turned and kicked his horse to go faster, knowing they needed to leave everything behind.
Chapter Eight
Esther’s chest tightened as the horses galloped in a frenzy, their powerful hooves pounding against the soft earth. She clung to Whit as they raced through the moonlit darkness. Holding onto him for dear life, she tightened her grip, afraid she might slip and fall if she didn’t.
Whit’s arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her close as they rode on horseback through the dark, eerie forest. The horse’s saddle was uncomfortable, but she didn’t dare complain, as it meant she was still alive. Despite the warmth of Whit’s embrace, her mind raced with images of the horrific scenes she had witnessed. Tears streamed down her face as she buried it in his shoulder and clutched onto his coat for dear life.
The moon had disappeared when the horses finally slowed down. They were riding under a thick canopy of trees next toa river. There weren’t many of the gang left as they traveled in a small pack toward their new destination. She didn’t want to think about the bodies peppered about the last encampment. Brodie waited until they were far enough away before lighting lanterns that would light their way under the dark cover of trees.
“Whit,” Esther whispered, her voice barely carrying over the loud, gushing water. “Where are we going?”
“Looks like we’re headed back toward Flat River.”
