“Let her go, gambler.” The drawl was low, more like a growl than speech. Elizabeth had never seen Asa so cold. So dangerous.
Cougar’s “You can’t hope to get out of here,” all but covered Aaron’s “You’re a dead man.”
Brent shook his hand free of her teeth and countered, “Like hell I can’t.”
Taking a desperate breath, Elizabeth redirected her glare to Aaron. “This isn’t the time to be making threats.”
“You can think of a better one?” Asa asked conversationally, one eyebrow winging up, shifting his position so he was clear of the door and his hands hovered near his guns.
She felt the cold muzzle of a gun press against her temple. She swallowed carefully. “Yes.”
She tightened her grip on her reticule, closed her eyes, and prayed.
“Get back!” Brent warned the crowd, twisting her about as he made sure everyone saw the gun. He switched his grip to her throat, pulling her back against his chest. He waved the gun at Asa before snapping it back against her temple.
“You ruined everything,” Brent snarled at Asa, who stood, gun drawn, his face a calm mask of determination. “I would have had the ranch, my revenge, and Elizabeth if you hadn’t come along.”
“You most certainly would not,” Elizabeth protested, testing Brent’s hold but finding no weakness. “I don’t care how desperate I became; I never would have stayed with a no-account wastrel like you!”
“Shut up, Elizabeth!” Aaron and Asa bellowed simultaneously.
While she couldn’t see Aaron’s face, Asa’s eyes were flat gray with tension and worry. Brent’s forearm around her throat made it hard to talk, but she wanted this point clear. “I am not shutting up. This is my reputation the man is smearing!”
“I’m going to smear a hell of a lot more than your reputation if you don’t shut up,” Brent growled.
No he wouldn’t. She knew that. Not until they were clear of the crowd at least. She gathered the cord on her reticule and closed her mouth. Brent started backing away. Behind him, the crowd must have parted because he didn’t slow down. She stumbled once and he dragged her until she found her feet. She twisted, but accomplished nothing more than losing her balance and getting dragged again.
“For God’s sake, Elizabeth,” she heard Asa call. “Don’t fight.”
She ignored him and tried pulling Brent’s arm from her throat. She might as well have been tugging on a tree. As Asa had pointed out before, her weight was nothing to a man.
She checked the crowd for signs of rescue and found no comfort there. All the men had guns drawn and were searching for a shot. Unfortunately, few of those guns were in sober hands. The best she could hope for was that some drunken idiots wouldn’t let off a shot by mistake.
She tried to tangle her feet in Brent’s. “If you don’t lay off, you’re going to meet the same end as your mother.” He hauled her higher, choking her in the process.
Time stopped. Hardly caring about her lack of breath, she wheezed, “My mother?”
“She wouldn’t cooperate either. Killed herself when Coyote Bill caught me at the ranch. Stupid bitch fought me for the gun.” As he spoke, he continued to drag her uncompromisingly backwards, toward his safety. Toward her death.
“Why?” She had to know. Even if she died, she had to know.
He shrugged against her back, then she felt his muscles pull as he scanned behind him. “I would have had the ranch years ago. All I had to do was seduce your mother, kill your father, and I could have married into the best piece of property this side of the Mississippi.” He stumbled on a rock. The gun rapped her on the temple; pain slammed her eyes closed, but not her ears. “A place like that could fund a man for a good many years.”
In her mind’s eye, she pictured her gentle mother’s face. She remembered her father’s devastation upon her death. The suspicions she’d harbored against him. “You killed my mother because you didn’t want to work?”
“No.” Grunting, he picked up the pace, dragging her around a water trough. “I killed her because she didn’t have the sense to appreciate what I offered.”
“My mother was a very smart woman.”
She whispered a prayer to her father, asking for forgiveness for thinking he had killed her mother, before she opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was Asa. He was behind Cougar and Aaron, staying back, but following. Waiting. Watching. She met his gaze through the dust kicking up at their passage, and shivered. The man she was looking at bore no resemblance to the easy-going man she’d married. The man she saw now was pure warrior. This was the man who would follow her to the grave if they allowed it.
A strange calm settled over her. “Let me go, Brent.”