as a statue.
When their conversation faltered a few minutes later, she lifted her head to find out why. All eyes were on Art as he approached and crouched down beside her.
“Oh, go on about your business.” He gestured toward the group. “I just wanna chat with the lady.”
One by one, they turned their attention back to the game.
Art spoke in low tones, and she had to incline her head to hear him clearly.
“You don’t have to be afraid of Harrison, ya know.” His brown eyes appealed to her. “He ain’t like the others.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she whispered. She half wished he’d go back to his corner and let her go back to being invisible.
“I know you must be terrible scared,” his voice dipped even lower, “but if I know Harrison, he’ll try to get you to safety.”
Interesting. Here was one outlaw urging her to trust another outlaw.
“Why would he do that?”
“Can’t rightly say. But I ain’t never seen him harm a living soul. Goes out of his way to avoid bloodshed.” He dipped his chin. “And he’s real respectful of the ladies. Harrison’s a gentleman through and through.”
Juliana smothered an unlady-like snort of disbelief. Gentleman? Hah. Her kidnapper resembled no gentleman she’d ever known.
Thinking perhaps this might be her last chance to broach the subject of faith, she leaned in close. “Remember what you said earlier about peace? And about not knowing where you’re headed when you die?”
His face grew solemn. “Yeah.”
“Jesus loves you, Art. He wants to free you from this life of sin. All you have to do is ask for forgiveness.”
“I ain’t never gonna be perfect.”
She placed a hand on his arm, willing him to understand. “He doesn’t expect us to be. We’re only human, after all.” She rushed to add, “But if we put our trust in God, He’ll help us when we’re weak and forgive us when we mess up.”
“What are you two whispering about?” a gruff voice interrupted. “Hatching an escape plan?”
Art clambered to his feet. “N-no, nothing like that.”
Catching Fitzgerald’s hot glare at the young man, Juliana’s temper took hold and she bolted to her feet.
“Leave him alone,” she cried, “he was just trying to be nice.”
With his bear paw of a hand, Fitzgerald seized her arm in a painful grip. “You watch how you speak to me, you good-for-nothing—”
“Don’t, Fitz,” Art protested. “Harrison won’t like it if you roughhouse his girl.”
Juliana could feel the bruises already starting to form where his fingers buried into her flesh. She winced in pain.
Where was Harrison?
Chapter Three
Evan was having trouble focusing on the conversation. He couldn’t shake Miss O’Malley’s stricken expression. He could only hope that with his challenge fresh in their minds, the men would think twice before approaching her. His ears strained for any sound of distress, but he could hear only the steady hum of voices and the occasional bark of laughter.
“What’s the story with this girl? Why did you bring her here?” Roberts propped an arm on the windowsill.
“Things got out of hand. She was making a scene right there in plain view, and then a gentleman friend of hers approached us. I had to think fast. Defuse the situation.”
“You like her,” he accused.
Evan gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’ve always been partial to redheads.”
Where was Roberts going with this line of questioning?
The older man’s gray eyes narrowed slightly. “She’s a witness. You know what that means.”
Ah. Roberts was probing his motives and trying to decide if he had the stomach to do away with her. With a deep breath, Evan set out to convince his leader that he didn’t have a conscience.
“I’ve been alone too long,” he said, forcing a lusty sigh. “A man needs female companionship every now and then, if you know what I mean. A few nights with her are all I need.”
“Like ‘em unspoiled, I see.” The other man straightened. “Just don’t get attached, Harrison. You understand what you’ll have to do before you head back?”
Swallowing back the bile rising in his throat, he spoke without emotion. “I remember. Dead witnesses can’t testify.”
A malicious grin split Roberts’s bearded face. “Exactly.”
A high-pitched scream pierced the air. Evan’s heart plummeted to his knees. He jerked open the bedroom door in time to see Fitzgerald’s fist connect with Miss O’Malley’s cheek, the force of the blow knocking her to the floor.
White-hot fury shot through Evan, and he unsheathed his weapon. “Outside now,” he growled. “Just you and me.”
“Gladly.” Fitz took a step toward the door.
“No.” Roberts stepped between them. He threw Evan an exasperated glance. “Remember your job, Harrison. Or do I need to leave it to someone else?”
“No.” Evan fought for control over his emotions. So much was riding on the next few moments. “I’ll do it,” he ground out.
Deciding that it was high time to get out of there, he strode to the corner and hauled her up, ignoring her whimpers when all he wanted to do was comfort her. When he spoke, he made sure everyone heard him.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he forced himself to say in as lewd a tone he could manage, “Let’s go have some fun.”
She shivered at his words. Evan felt nauseated, but he kept his expression blank. He looked at Roberts. “Give me a few days. I plan on takin’ my time.”
“Remember, Harrison, don’t come back until the matter’s taken care of.”
Evan tugged the brim of his hat in response, half dragging her out the door and down the steps. Sweat dotted his brow. Adrenaline surged through his body. He had to get her out of there before Fitz talked Roberts out of letting her go.
Her breaths were coming in pitiful gasps. Walking with her body tucked against his side, he kept one hand on each of her arms as he propelled her through the darkness. Her steps were halting, as if trying to slow their progress. He hoped she wouldn’t try to bolt again.
When he heard the cabin door slam open, he urged her to go faster. He didn’t waste a second glancing back. He would not fail her as he’d failed
