The Texas Ranger's Daughter. Jenna Kernan

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СКАЧАТЬ her hair and rubbed it between his dirty fingers. She tried to pull back, but he jerked the hank of hair. When she cried out he laughed.

      Laurie glanced to Boon and noted his eyes shift, but he made no move to help her. So she faced the man herself.

      “Are you trying to get shot? Hammer said no one is to touch me.”

      He stopped laughing, narrowing his eyes on her. Laurie held her breath. Their leader had not exactly told his men not to touch her. She waited to see what he’d do.

      He took another swallow of whiskey and then rose to his feet, making a show of adjusting himself before joining the others. The men now sat on one side of the fire and she on the other, predators facing their captured prey.

      She had never felt more alone in her life. The fear choked her and she grew dizzy from the worry. She knew what would come next and the dread made her nauseous.

      She sat still and watchful as the men passed the whiskey and got louder and meaner by the minute.

      The outlaws ate, scraping their beans and bacon off tin plates with day-old biscuits. But no one fed her. Laurie’s stomach growled as she watched them, hoping for a chance to run again into the night.

      At last George Hammer reemerged from the hovel of a house with Cal.

      “So, who’s first, boys?”

      Laurie swallowed back the bile rising in her stomach. The time had come. She glanced frantically about for somewhere to run.

      But the men weren’t looking at her, they were eyeing each other, sizing up the competition.

      She rose, but Cal shoved her to the ground. “You’re not going anywhere.”

      Laurie sank in the dust, leaning back against the log, and watched the men. Some hung back, remaining in their places. Others stood casually, as if just preparing to take a stroll.

      Boon stepped into the firelight, the first to stake a claim.

      “Me,” he said, lowering his chin in a challenge.

      The others glanced from one to the next, but no one stepped forward. Laurie began to tremble, her eyes darting from one to another, searching desperately for escape and finding none.

      Larson finally moved from the group. He was older, bigger and outweighed the younger man by fifty pounds. But he was a coward inside; Laurie knew it from the exchange she’d seen with Hammer. Cowards didn’t fight unless they were certain they could win. Cowards made the best bullies and suddenly she could not draw breath. What if it were Larson? She’d rather die, but Hammer had not given her that option.

      He meant to have his pound of flesh.

      She knew Larson was fully capable of breaking a man’s jaw with one punch and she wondered why Boon looked so lackadaisical. The others moved to form a ring, grinning and shouting, perhaps hoping that the fight would take out one or both of them, leaving an open field. Cal rose to gain a better vantage point, leaving her unattended, just outside the ring of cheering men.

      Larson lifted his fists. “Still time to back down.”

      Boon shook his head.

      Laurie’s stomach tightened. Help was not coming. She needed to do for herself or die in the attempt. She tried to think what a Ranger would do and wondered if she might sneak away in the melee. But at that moment, George Hammer sat beside her, drawing his gun and then crossing his arms so the pistol pointed casually at her.

      “You just sit back down now and watch the show. You’ll be the show soon enough. I hope it’s Larson. He’s big and mean as a bull. Like him to be your first. But you’ll take them all, some more than once. By the time the sun’s up, you’ll be begging me for this bullet.” He lifted the barrel of his gun. “My, your daddy will be grieved.”

      His smile was a bitter combination of warm satisfaction and icy vengeance. Laurie struggled not to vomit as terror gripped her belly.

      The men circled each other. She could not draw her eyes from them, one slender, muscular and quick, one slow, beefy and enormous. Who would be the first to rape her?

       Chapter Two

      Laurie tried to draw up her knees to her chest, but her corset and bustle prevented her, so she inclined to the side, legs tucked under her skirt with one elbow resting on the log behind her as she watched. Time seemed to slow as Larson swung a bone-crushing fist at Boon’s head and missed. Boon, smaller and faster, ducked, then landed a blow to Larson’s ribs before spinning away as the older man bellowed. Another swing and another miss. This time Boon used his elbow to strike the back of Larson’s head.

      Both men were dirty fighters, but Boon was faster and stayed out of the man’s reach. If Larson got his hands on him, Laurie felt certain Boon would be finished. The bigger man made a grab for his opponent and Boon used the heel of his hand against his rival’s nose. The crunch made Laurie gag. His broken nose gushed blood down his indigo denim shirt and greasy brown vest. A moment later, Larson’s left eye swelled shut and the big man began to stagger. He drew his gun. The men ceased cheering and dived for cover at the exact moment Boon lunged at Larson’s legs, using his body like a rolling barrel to take the man down.

      Laurie didn’t know when it happened but she found herself rooting for Boon, clearly the underdog. What was the matter with her? She should hope they all killed each other and left her in peace.

      Boon sprang to his feet and used his boot heel to crush Larson’s shooting hand, still clutching the pistol. The downed man howled like a feral animal as his fingers crunched. Boon retrieved the gun from the ground.

      He aimed it at Larson. The man stopped screaming and cradled his mangled hand to his chest. Boon cocked the trigger.

      The clearing now fell so silent, Laurie could hear the burning logs crackle and pop in the fire.

      George Hammer rose and stepped forward. The men parted as he approached. He glanced coldly at Larson, lying like a defeated gladiator in the ring. Laurie recalled this was his pick and shivered. Hammer turned his head and narrowed his eyes on Boon. The younger outlaw was so still, he seemed carved of marble, but he still aimed the gun at Larson’s big ugly bleeding nose.

      Boon did not look to their leader, but seemed to be waiting for something.

      “Finish him,” growled Hammer.

      There was no hesitation. Boon squeezed the trigger. The shot exploded as Laurie screamed. Larson twitched as the bullet passed through his forehead and then he went still, his feet lolling in opposite directions as his injured hand slipped to the ground.

      Her cry and the pistol shot rang in her ears as her mind tried to reconcile such savagery.

      Hammer clapped Boon on the shoulder. Boon lowered Larson’s smoking pistol.

      “Glad to have you back, Boon.” He turned toward the men. “Larson pulled his pistols. If Boon hadn’t shot him, I woulda.”

      Boon slid Larson’s gun behind the buckle of his belt. “Who’s next?”

      The men shifted restlessly. Larson was the biggest among them and Boon had taken him СКАЧАТЬ