stature.
Buck Scott stepped down onto the uneven ground beside the track and then pulled Annika down the steps behind him. “He doesn’t have a thing to say about it, Alice. A deal’s a deal. Everybody knows that. Besides, if you don’t intend to carry out your end of the bargain, then I’ll have you arrested for stealing my money.”
“What money?” she yelled.
He leaned close and said very slowly and distinctly, as if she were an idiot, “The money I sent you for train fare.”
With that, Buck abruptly turned around and began dragging Annika down the line toward his horses. She dug in her heels. He jerked her off them. The conductor, followed by a crowd of passengers, some that had disembarked again just to watch, hurried after them.
When Buck reached his horses and mules, he started to release Annika, then thought better of it. He glanced up at the sky, tried to ignore the harsh wind that had begun to whip around them, and wondered how he was going to tie her valise and writing box to the mules with one hand.
“If I let you go are you going to run off?”
She couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to even ask. “What do you think?”
He shouted over his shoulder to the conductor. “Come over here and strap these things onto that front pack mule.”
“Mister, listen,” the conductor said with sudden reservation, “maybe we should wait until we get to Cheyenne. You can come aboard, we’ll haul your animals back in the stock car and—”
“No. I don’t have time.”
“Listen,” the man tried again, “I don’t see that it would make much difference one way or the other. Whether she’s your fiancée or not, this lady doesn’t want to go with you. I think it would be better all around if you waited so we can clear this up in Cheyenne.”
Buck stared at the crowd around them. Ladies and gentlemen from the East, farmers, traveling salesmen, a cowhand or two, some wide-eyed immigrants. They were all watching him intently. Watching and sizing him up. It had been that way since he was fourteen years old and taller than most grown men. Even back then people took him to be much older, far rougher than he really was, and for that reason he’d been challenged time and time again by men who had to prove they were better than the overgrown son of a wandering buffalo hunter.
He recognized the expressions in the eyes of the women. Some of them watched him with undisguised fear, while others merely stared at him with disdain. He was big and rough, crudely dressed and he knew it, but his appearance reflected all that he had experienced during his lifetime. Changing the outside wasn’t going to change all he carried around inside.
He could feel the emotion of the crowd as it slowly shifted from support to one of suspicion. Sensing his hesitation, the girl began to struggle harder against his grip. He squeezed her wrist, was immediately contrite when he saw her wince, but didn’t ease up. As he jerked her to his side, he thrust the valise and writing box toward the conductor, who had no choice but to grab them before they hit the ground.
With a lightning swift move, Buck drew his skinning knife from the sheath anchored to his thigh and pulled Annika into his arms. He pressed the tip of the knife against her throat.
She stopped struggling and stiffened immediately. He glared at the conductor. “Now tie those things on the mule.”
The crowd standing nearby was silent. Buck kept his gaze roving over them, carefully watching the men for any sign of movement, any indication that one of them was reaching for a gun.
“I didn’t want to have to do this to you, ma’am,” he growled low in her ear, “but you didn’t leave me any choice. You’ll see that when we get to the cabin.”
Annika was afraid to move. The warm breath that crept along her ear and neck did nothing to calm the fear that spurred the uneven beat of her heart. For a moment she feared she might faint, but never one to be a shrinking
Buck Scott stepped down onto the uneven ground beside the track and then pulled Annika down the steps behind him. “He doesn’t have a thing to say about it, Alice. A deal’s a deal. Everybody knows that. Besides, if you don’t intend to carry out your end of the bargain, then I’ll have you arrested for stealing my money.”
“What money?” she yelled.
He leaned close and said very slowly and distinctly, as if she were an idiot, “The money I sent you for train fare.”
With that, Buck abruptly turned around and began dragging Annika down the line toward his horses. She dug in her heels. He jerked her off them. The conductor, followed by a crowd of passengers, some that had disembarked again just to watch, hurried after them.
When Buck reached his horses and mules, he started to release Annika, then thought better of it. He glanced up at the sky, tried to ignore the harsh wind that had begun to whip around them, and wondered how he was going to tie her valise and writing box to the mules with one hand.
“If I let you go are you going to run off?”
She couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to even ask. “What do you think?”
He shouted over his shoulder to the conductor. “Come over here and strap these things onto that front pack mule.”
“Mister, listen,” the conductor said with sudden reservation, “maybe we should wait until we get to Cheyenne. You can come aboard, we’ll haul your animals back in the stock car and—”
“No. I don’t have time.”
“Listen,” the man tried again, “I don’t see that it would make much difference one way or the other. Whether she’s your fiancée or not, this lady doesn’t want to go with you. I think it would be better all around if you waited so we can clear this up in Cheyenne.”
Buck stared at the crowd around them. Ladies and gentlemen from the East, farmers, traveling salesmen, a cowhand or two, some wide-eyed immigrants. They were all watching him intently. Watching and sizing him up. It had been that way since he was fourteen years old and taller than most grown men. Even back then people took him to be much older, far rougher than he really was, and for that reason he’d been challenged time and time again by men who had to prove they were better than the overgrown son of a wandering buffalo hunter.
He recognized the expressions in the eyes of the women. Some of them watched him with undisguised fear, while others merely stared at him with disdain. He was big and rough, crudely dressed and he knew it, but his appearance reflected all that he had experienced during his lifetime. Changing the outside wasn’t going to change all he carried around inside.
He could feel the emotion of the crowd as it slowly shifted from support to one of suspicion. Sensing his hesitation, the girl began to struggle harder against his grip. He squeezed her wrist, was immediately contrite when he saw her wince, but didn’t ease up. As he jerked her to his side, he thrust the valise and writing box toward the conductor, who had no choice but to grab them before they hit the ground.
With a lightning swift move, Buck drew his skinning knife from the sheath anchored to his thigh and pulled Annika into his arms. He pressed the tip of the knife against her throat.
She stopped struggling and stiffened immediately. He glared at the conductor. “Now tie those things on the mule.”
The crowd standing nearby was silent. Buck kept his gaze roving over them, carefully watching the men for any sign of movement, any indication that one of them was reaching for a gun.
“I didn’t want to have to do this to you, ma’am,” he growled low in her ear, “but you didn’t leave me any choice. You’ll see that when we get to the cabin.”
Annika was afraid to move. The warm breath that crept along her ear and neck did nothing to calm the fear that spurred the uneven beat of her heart. For a moment she feared she might faint, but never one to be a shrinking
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