Page 50 of Morning Dove

Ben stiffened at her side. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and did not dare look his way.

“I don’t think I believe you.” Walter shifted in his saddle again and lifted his revolver.

Morning Dove’s heart raced so fast she grew dizzy. She blinked away the sensation and pulled away from Ben. “Let him go and I will come with you.”

“Like hell you will.”

She ignored Ben’s outburst and crossed the small porch to the edge. “Promise me you will let him go, Walter, and I will come with you.”

“And if I don’t?”

Her mind drew a blank. There was no incentive for him to let Ben live. Whether or not she admitted to loving him, Ben had taken her and that alone enraged Walter enough to want him dead.

She had lived with Walter for over ten years. She knew more about him than anyone else alive, and she knew how he thought. He would not see Ben coming for her as a rescue. Instead, he would see it as theft. In Walter’s eyes, she belonged to him. A possession he owned. And Ben had stolen it from his own backyard.

Ignoring Ben and forcing herself to not look back at him, she said, “Let Ben go free and I will—” she choked on the words, “be the wife you have told everyone I am.”

Walter stilled, the smile on his face falling away. He stared at her, his gaze intense enough she felt ready to crawl from her skin.

She licked her lips and tried to keep her voice steady. “I will be your wife—in every way—and I will not fight it. I will…” Thoughts of crawling into his bed made the rabbit they had eaten the night before want to come up. She could not say the words out loud, but hoped he understood what she was not saying. If she had to subject herself to his touch to save Ben’s life, she would do it every day until she took her last breath.

When Walter smiled, the look in his eyes turning smug, she knew Ben would be safe.

Ben’s hold on her arm tightened, and she turned her head to him. “Let me go.”

“No.” He shook his head, the look in his eyes hardening. “You don’t really want to go with him, Morning Dove.”

“If it—”

“I don’t need you fighting my battles.”

Tears of frustration filled her eyes. “Please,” she whispered. “He will not let me go. It will not matter how fast we run, he will catch us, if not here, in Willow Creek, and he will not walk away until he is sure you can not come after me again." She wiped an errant tear from her cheek. "Please, let me save you this time.”

He opened his mouth to refuse, she was sure, but she silenced him by kissing him. Walter said nothing, and she was not sure she would care if he did. Pulling away, she stared into Ben’s eyes. “For what it is worth, you are the only man I have ever let into my heart. You will be the only one who ever resides there.”

She turned away before he could say another word and jumped off the small porch. One of the men with Walter had Wind Chaser and Cash’s reins, and he walked Wind Chaser toward Walter as she crossed the clearing.

Her eyes locked on Walter. She willed her legs to keep moving and tried not to show any emotion on her face because her heart was breaking with every step she took.

The man threw Wind Chaser’s reins to Walter, and he nodded to her horse as she neared him. Wind Chaser’s eyes looked a bit too wide. She was agitated, as if she knew what was happening was wrong.

The saddle creaked as she climbed onto it. She kept her head down, not daring to look up at Ben. She knew without looking he was furious. She just hoped he let her go without a fight.

The thought had only flitted through her mind when she saw Walter lift his hand out of the corner of her eye. The hammer being pulled back on his revolver echoed through her head as she looked over at him and she barely got her mouth open to scream, “No,” when he pulled the trigger.

Ben flew back onto the porch, hitting the old planks hard. Morning Dove’s heart stopped beating as she stared at him through the smoke coming from Walter’s gun. The scent of gunpowder hung in the air and her ears started ringing moments before her body went hot.

She screeched, the sound coming out harsh and raw, her throat aching as she screamed out her rage. Thoughts so black she was not sure where they came from filled her head as she lunged for Walter, grabbing him with both hands and jerking on him so hard they both tumbled off their mounts.

Screams tore through the clearing as her fists reined down and the ringing in her ears grew louder as she punched, hit, scratched, and screamed at Walter. She saw red as the anger built, and she was not sure how his revolver ended up in her hand. Nor did she remember standing up or pointing it at him.

Or pulling the trigger.

The acrid scent of gunpowder filled her nose as she pointed the gun at the others. One turned his mount and headed for the trees. She pulled the trigger again, aiming for his head as the others ducked and turned in two different directions, urging their horses into a run as she kept firing.

Chapter Fifteen

He was dying. The pain racing through his body was too intense not to be.

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