Darby: Bride of Oregon (American Mail-Order Bride 33) by Bella Bowen

the end. A single gunman blocked the door, but his head was
turned to the side. Whatever was going on in the room had his attention.
    Now close enough to hear the music, Rand smiled.
It was a bouncy tune that would inspire anything but romance.
    The tilted brim of the guard’s hat shielded his
view. No time to waste. Rand moved silently down the hall and when he was close
enough that the gunman noticed his feet, Rand leapt at him and pressed the gun
against the other man’s middle, stopping him from pointing the weapon. He
jammed his thumb into the rear gap in the trigger and prevented it from firing.
Then he released the guard so he could have a free hand, and jammed two fingers
up the gunman’s nose.
    The big man bellowed and his grip loosened. A
heartbeat later, Rand pointed the gun at the guard’s belly and wiped his
fingers on the man’s shirt.
    The door opened wide and Rand shoved the gunman
through it. Half a dozen revolvers cocked and pointed at him while he shoved
the big man backward. Once the guard stumbled to the side, Rand’s muzzle came to
rest in his enemy’s face where he sat on the edge of Jez’s bed.
    “You seem surprised to see me, Harrigan,” he said
with a smile behind the mask.
    The man sputtered. Jez tried to get off the bed,
but he grabbed her ankle and held tight. Jez cried out in pain, then bit her
lip and held still. A quick glance told Rand she hadn’t been harmed—yet—and he
silently thanked God.
    Still holding two barrels in Harrigan’s face, Rand
turned his smiling mask both left and right to count the enemy. “Good evening,
gentlemen.”
    He paid no attention to their weapons but made it
clear their leader would suffer a dangerous head wound if any of them pulled a
trigger. They’d all been part of a dozen such standoffs before. They only
waited for the order to lower their weapons. But this time, Harrigan was slow
giving it.
    “Will tonight finally be the night, Harrigan?” He
widened his eyes like the prospect excited him.
    Harrigan glared. “What are you waiting for?”
    Rand put a hand against his chest. “Are you asking
me?”
    The man grunted impatiently and waved at his men. “Put
them down, you fools.”
    Rand hid his unease, still suspecting he’d walked
into a new trap. “Release my lady’s ankle.”
    Harrigan’s face twisted into a snarl. “Aren’t you
supposed to be bedding that new wife of yours?”
    Rand threw his head back and laughed, and he kept
it up so long some of Harrigan’s underlings started laughing too, which only
helped Rand laugh harder. And the best part was knowing how much Harrigan hated
to be laughed at.
    Eventually, he settled. “You are the fool,
Harrigan, if think for one minute I would choose any other woman over my
Jezebel. It seems you have me confused with Judge Beauregard again, since he’s
the only man I know who was married today.”
    Harrigan ground his teeth together and said
nothing.
    Rand lowered the shotgun and stepped closer,
producing a long, wicked dagger and holding the tip just an inch from the man’s
left eye. “How dare you touch her!”
    Harrigan narrowed his eyes and tried to ignore the
sharp, winking blade. “If you’re not Rand Beauregard, then you’re his brother.
And a brother will do me just fine.” He lifted a hand and wiggled a finger. “Bring
one of them out.”
    A man opened the door to Jez’s large dressing room
and another gunman from inside pushed a woman into the room—a gagged and
petrified girl named Lilly. She’d worked for Jez for as long as he’d been the
Phantom. Her expression turned from fear, to hope, and back again when the
first man cocked his revolver and pointed it at her head.
    “Russian roulette?” Harrigan asked. “Or Pig
sticking? Which do you prefer?”
     

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
     
    Darby kept a stiff upper lip for the sake of the
servants when she sat down to breakfast alone the next morning. At the last
minute, she’d proved a coward and removed the ring. But she