Page 10 of The Scot Beds His Wife
Herhusband.
“Thank you,” Alison said ardently against her ear.“Thank you. I know he was your man, but I wasn’t ready to die.”
Pulling away from Alison, Samantha noted the mark that Bennett’s recently used gun left on her pale temple. He had to have killed before, hadn’t he? He just… murdered that innocent man like it was nothing to him. He didn’t even hesitate. And then to even consider executing a slight and lovely girl like Alison?
Her husband offouryears.
God,had she ever known him at all?
Wood paneling splintered above them as a bullet pierced the wall, and Alison screamed, lifting her arms to cover the green silk hat perched above a wealth of mahogany curls.
Bradley.
Samantha’s head whipped around to see that he’d gained on their car, and had witnessed the entire thing. Luckily, of the four of them, Bradley was the weakest shot and only the second-best rider.
The distinction as the best, of course, belonged to her.
Boyd was the gunslinger.
Samantha dimly remembered Bennett saying that Boyd had been wounded, and with any luck, those wounds would be fatal.
Bradley’s mount galloped closer, and Samantha realized that if he gained on the train, he’d be coming for her, and only one of them would survive the encounter.
She’d found her gun where she’d dropped it, but Alison stayed her hand. “I know a way to keep your neck out of a noose,” she said, her blueberry gaze surprisingly steady through the tears. “But we’ll have to… to get rid of the body.”
Samantha’s racing heart shriveled, but she and Alison stayed low as they rolled Bennett’s limp body the few feet to the door.
“You’re dead, Sam!” Bradley, unable to reload his pistol on horseback, was reaching across his saddle for his rifle. Which gave the women no time to pause. No time to hesitate.
Together, they pushed Bennett through the door, and the force of the train, the wind, and momentum pulled him sideways down the iron steps. The broken sounds his body made when he hit the earth nearly killed Samantha, but Alison slammed the door just as Bradley’s rifle had found purchase on his shoulder.
Samantha could tell his shot went wild, and waited a few eternal seconds for another.
Alison gathered her wealth of skirts and knelt on a seat, peeking through the window. “He’s stopped.” She breathed in obvious relief. “He’s stopped for your—for the body.”
It was only then that Samantha began to shake. Great, bone-rattling tremors coursed through her. All warmth leached out of her, and she slumped into a seat knowing her freezing limbs wouldn’t hold her weight for much longer.
Resolutely, Alison Ross claimed the seat across from her. A bone structure as sharp and perfect as hers was only accentuated by pink blush and rouged, full lips. Emeralds swayed and twinkled in her ears, catching the light as she leaned toward Samantha.
“He called you Sam,” she noted in a sweet voice that contrasted with her sharp tone. “That’s your name?”
“S-S-Samantha,” she managed through rattling teeth. “H-his brothers. T-they’re going to kill me. I’d rather hang.”
“You told me you grew up on a cattle ranch. Was this the truth?”
Samantha nodded, wondering if she’d ever be able to breathe again. Assaulted by the picture of Bennett’s handsome face marred by a perfectly round hole between his eyes.
“You can shoot, obviously. Can you ride, herd cattle, work figures?”
She nodded again, before the absurdity of Alison’s question registered. “W-why are you being kind to me? My—my husband almost—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. It was too horrible.
In spite of everything, a corner of Alison’s painted mouth lifted at Samantha’s expression. “Where I come from, in my country, saving a life is no small debt. Also, in my savage part of the world, from the time we’re very,veryyoung one law is paramount to all others.Tha an lagh comraich.”
“Comraich?”Samantha blinked rapidly at the lovely, obviously wealthy woman. Either she’d gone mad, or Alison was speaking in tongues.
“It meanssanctuary.”
Shaking her head, Samantha tried to understand the woman. That word had no meaning to her. What was Alison talking about,hercountry? She didn’t look or sound at all like an immigrant. Was she not American? Had she not said she had a fiancéin San Francisco? That her family had been wealthy ranchers and she was forced to travel east to settle a land dispute?
