No Other Will Do (Ladies of Harper's Station #1)(99)

“How do I know you won’t attack him or take him hostage?”

Like you did with Emma? But Mal kept the accusation to himself and simply shrugged. “He can keep his pistol—can train it on me the whole time, if he wants.”

Mal knew he had to appear to give Angus the upper hand or the man would never agree to the terms. Besides, he could afford to be a little generous, seeing as how he had strategically placed a few extra weapons of his own.

Angus mulled it over, shifting in his saddle. He clearly wanted to agree. The restless energy flowing from him into his mount was a sure indication of his being torn. The moment Mal had accurately described the gold’s hiding place, Angus had been salivating over how to reclaim it. Hopefully his greed would win out over caution.

After a long, heart-stopping minute, it did.

“Ned! Get off your horse, boy, and do as he said. Aim your gun at his chest. Don’t give him an inch.”

The boy obeyed. Dismounted. Gave his sorrel a slap on the rump to send it trotting off into the field between the church and station house. Then he drew his pistol and aimed it straight at Mal’s torso. The kid had a steady hand—steadier than Mal had expected, making him a little uneasy. Perhaps the boy wasn’t as unwilling a participant as Flora had led him to believe.

Angus had to holster his revolver in order to maintain his grip on Emma while dismounting. Mal breathed easier the instant the gun disappeared from Emma’s temple. He met her gaze across the churchyard, promising her with his eyes that he would take care of her, keep her safe. Her chin lifted and her shoulders straightened. She was ready. Mal bit back a smile. His angel was a fighter.

“All right, Shaw.” Angus slapped the hindquarters of his own horse, sending the rifle in the saddle boot safely out of reach. “Let’s see that rifle of yours hit the dirt.”

Malachi complied. He slowly lowered the weapon to the ground, then used the toe of his right boot to kick it out of reach.

“Now the holster.” Angus gestured with a jerk of his chin.

Mal unbuckled the gun belt, folded it over, and tossed it in the same direction as the rifle. Then he raised his hands in the air to show himself unarmed. In truth he still had a knife in his boot and a second revolver in the waistband of his trousers against the small of his back, but he figured his opponent would be similarly armed during their truce.

Holding Emma tight with a beefy arm across her midsection, pinning her hands to her sides, Angus slowly worked the buckle loose on his own gun belt and let it fall to the ground. Instead of kicking it away, he dragged Emma three paces to the left.

“Go on, boy,” the outlaw ordered his son. “Get me my gold.”

Ned marched forward, his pistol never wavering. But as he neared, Mal saw all the fear and uncertainty playing in his eyes. Flora had been right. The kid was in over his head. He put on a good show, probably learned that skill early on in order to avoid his pa’s temper, but he hadn’t yet learned how to deaden the truth from his eyes.

When the boy stood two paces away, Mal whispered to him in a voice barely loud enough to carry between the two of them. “Your ma will tell you where the gold is. She’s in the church.”

Ned’s eyebrows arched so high they disappeared behind the shaggy hair hanging over his forehead. The gun gave a little wobble.

“What’s he tellin’ ya, boy?” Angus demanded. “Where’s my gold?”

Like a good little solider, Ned kept his gaze trained on the target and never looked away as he called out to his father. “I-I don’t know. He said there . . . there’d be a message inside the church.”

“Well, get after it, then.”

“What about him?” Ned asked, tipping his head toward Mal.

Angus grinned and moved his left hand up to Emma’s throat. She shook her head vigorously from side to side in an effort to escape his grasp, but he was too strong and she had nowhere to go. “Don’t worry ’bout him, boy. He won’t try nothin’. Not while I got his woman. If he does, I’ll just squeeze. Shouldn’t take long for the little lady to suffocate. Such a delicate creature. Ain’t that right, Shaw?”

Angus tightened his grip beneath Emma’s jaw, forcing her chin up toward the sky. Mal seethed but held his position. As long as she was still breathing, he had to let this play out.





38


Tension coiled like a spring inside Emma, her senses on high alert even as the outlaw’s hand tightened on her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She knew Malachi must have a plan, but she couldn’t see him. Not with her head tilted so far upward. If he gave a signal, she wouldn’t see it. And she couldn’t risk making a move before he was ready. Not if she wanted to ensure his safety.

Angus had another gun. It was jabbing her in the back. Not only was she shielding the outlaw from gunfire, but she was also blocking Malachi from seeing the weapon Angus had tucked into the front of his trousers. A weapon he had every intention of utilizing as soon as he got what he wanted.

“What’s takin’ so long, boy?” Angus shouted, his booming voice so close to her face her ears rang. “Is my gold in there?”

Ned didn’t answer.

Emma’s already pounding heart thumped a little faster. Was this part of the plan? Getting Ned away from his father? But why would he stay in the church? What had Mal told him?