Tom's gaunt cheeks went crimson, and a feral growl issued from somewhere deep in the back of his throat. He bared his teeth like a rabid dog and turned his attention back to the Injun. His fingers squeezed so hard his knuckles hurt.
Amanda was breathing hard and fast through her mouth. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. Her knees were shaking so badly it was a wonder she was still standing. She wasn't too far from Tom Rafferty, she could probably hit him... but not if she didn't bring some of her trembling under control. And what, she wondered frantically, would happen if she did pull the trigger... and missed? What if...
God, what if she hit Jake instead?
It was a risk she would have to take. Because if she did nothing, Jake was going to die. Amanda squinted until her eyes were almost closed. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, turned her head... and pulled the trigger.
The bullet roared from the barrel in a deafening explosion. The repercussions of the shot slammed up Amanda's fear-weakened arms. Though she wanted nothing more at that moment than to collapse, she forced herself to stay erect. She had to know who she'd shot!
Time slowed to a crawl. For a minute, it looked like she hadn't shot anyone. Tom Rafferty continued to straddle Jake's stomach, but neither man moved. Both seemed frozen eerily in place, as though they'd been sculpted from ice.
It wasn't until she yanked the hammer back and prepared to shoot again that she saw Tom waver. His chin went up, and a cry of alarm gurgled in his throat as his spine arched. A wet stain soaked through his shirt; it spread quickly. Firelight and moonlight made his blood glisten a gruesome shade of black.
The gun slipped from Amanda's hands. She barely noticed as she covered her face with trembling palms. Her shaking, which had never really ceased, resumed with a force that rocked her. The tremors started on the inside, working their way to the surface in numbing, ice-cold waves.
Her sobs bordered on hysterical; she couldn't control them. In seconds, her hands were slick. Hot tears dripped paths down her wrists, where they were finally soaked up by her sleeves. She didn't realize she'd fallen to her knees until she felt the collision of hard, lumpy ground beneath her.
"Jesus H. Christ!" Jake wasn't even aware of hissing the blasphemy under his breath as he struggled to roll Tom Rafferty's weight off and to the side. The effort put his wounded arm through a burning sort of hell, but he didn't give up until the chore was done.
Getting to his feet proved a hard-won lesson in agony. Not only did his arm hurt, but the way the blood rushed from his face made the bruises there throb. He sucked in a sharp breath, swayed, and came damn close to falling right back down again. If there was an inch of him that didn't hurt, he couldn't find it. He ached in places he didn't even know he had!
Oddly enough, the pain raging through him was secondary. More important was the gut-wrenching need to get to Amanda, to wrap her in his arms, to somehow ease the anguish he could hear in her heartrending sobs. He realized only now that he'd never heard her cry before. Damn, but he'd had no idea the sound would tear him apart this way.
She was kneeling by the time Jake reached her. Her arms were coiled around her middle, and she was rocking back and forth. Her eyes were scrunched closed. Tears streamed down her paler-than-pale cheeks, running in wet rivulets down her neck, beneath her collar. The way her jaw and lower lip trembled cut Jake up inside.
"Ah, God, I'm sorry, princess. So damn sorry," Jake murmured hoarsely as he knelt in front of her. Ignoring the pain, he reached for her. His breath went shallow when Amanda came willingly into his arms. Her whimper of gratitude made his heart stop.
Jake angled his head, laying his battered cheek on her silky head. He held her close, stroked and soothed her, for what felt like hours. Eventually, her sobs eased. It took much, much longer for her tears to stop. Her shaking never did.
"J-Jake?"
He stroked her hair with his cheek, and murmured throatily, "Right here, princess." His gaze shifted to Tom Rafferty's body. A tremor ripped through him, and he tightened his hold on Amanda, as though he was trying to melt her body right into his own. If only he could.
Amanda was tempted to look into Jake's eyes, to discern what that husky timber in his voice meant, but she resisted. To do so would mean she would have to move, and Jake's warm, solid chest beneath her cheek felt too good to surrender just yet, too comforting. The drumming of his heart was a steady, calming beat in her ear. "You won't l-leave me again. Will you?"
"I..." He knew what she was talking about. He didn't know precisely how he knew, he just did. Jake felt an unfamiliar stab of emotion in the region of his heart. It took a second for him to place it; it took even longer for him to admit it was guilt. "No, princess, I won't leave you."
"Y-you promise?"
"Yes." He stroked brisk paths up and down her arms, even as he angled his head and nuzzled her neck. Her hair smelled piney and fragrant. Her skin felt warm beneath his lips. Perfect. Holding her in his arms felt... ah, God, so damn perfect! Good and right and wonderful. How was he ever going to leave this woman? How was he ever going to let her go?
The answer came out of nowhere; it hit him like a rock-solid punch to the gut. He couldn't leave her. Not now. Not ever. Sometime during the last few weeks, this white woman had cut through the wall he'd erected around himself. Her easy smile and prissy ways had chiseled away his resistance, burrowed under his skin, snuck into his bloodstream. Somewhere along the line this woman had become an important part of him. Losing her now would be like losing a limb. No, that was wrong. An arm or leg he could live without. He could not live without Amanda.
A soft, muffled sob snatched Amanda's attention. She stiffened, and her head came up. For a split second, she wasn't sure what, or who, had made the noise. And then she remembered.
Roger. Dear Lord, with everything that had happened, she'd forgotten about the boy.
Swallowing a stab of guilt, she glanced up at Jake.
His jaw was tight, his gaze intense as he returned her stare. She wondered briefly what he was thinking. What had put that desperate glint in his eyes?
The moan came again, and the sound robbed Amanda of the chance to ask. "Roger," she whispered, and pushed against his chest. "Please, Jake, I have to go to him."
Jake's arms tightened around her. If Amanda had seen any emotion in his eyes a second ago, it was gone now. His gaze was narrow, unreadable. The muscle in his cheek jerked as he hauled her up against him once more. "The brat can wait."
"No, he can't. I... God, he must be terrified."
"So are you."