Early Dawn by Catherine Anderson Page B

at his pocket watch, he snapped the lid closed and said, “If you ride hard, Marshal, you can reach the train in a little over an hour. One of the passengers is in a bad way, so you should take the local sawbones along if you can.”
    The marshal nodded and swayed to his feet. For an instant, Matthew entertained the notion of telling the lawman about the kidnapped young woman, but he quickly discarded the idea. He didn’t want a posse of drunks catching up with him sometime tomorrow and getting in his way. If the girl survived the night, which was unlikely, Matthew stood a better chance of saving her than this inebriated yahoo and a bunch of inexperienced deputies. Matthew had learned that lesson the hard way. Just because men wore fancy stars on their shirts didn’t mean they had what it took to face the Sebastians.
    Tipping his hat, Matthew strode over to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey. After downing it, he bought a jug to take with him. Then, leaving the saloon, he made his way up the street to the general store to pick up a few supplies for the trail. In order to get inside, he had to clang a cowbell to draw the shopkeeper’s attention. While he gathered what he needed, his ears were pummeled by the old man’s small talk—about how slow business was, and how puny profits had forced him to let go of all his help.
    “You got a slab of bacon?” Matthew interrupted as he rummaged through a barrel of potatoes. “I need cornmeal and coffee, too.”
    On the off chance that the captured woman survived, he’d need grub to feed her, Matthew reasoned. Not that he believed, even for a second, that she would. If the Sebastian boys held true to form, they’d rape her until the shine wore off and then slit her throat.
     
    Eden awakened to a stabbing pain in her stomach, a bad headache, and an awful dizziness. Blinking to see, she realized she’d been slung over the back of a horse, her arms and head dangling. Oh, God . The events of the morning came rushing back—her struggle to escape from that horrible, filthy man and then sinking into blackness after he struck her.
    She focused dazedly on the toe of his dirty boot, thrust through a stirrup only inches from her nose. The acrid stench of his unwashed body was so strong it made her nostrils burn. Moaning, Eden tried to push herself up. With every step of the horse, the saddle horn jabbed her in the middle, and the pain was excruciating.
    “Be still!” A hard palm connected with her posterior, delivering a sharp sting even through her skirt, petticoat, and bloomers. “I ain’t puttin’ up with no sass. You hear?”
    To Eden’s horror, he cupped his hand over her buttock and gave it a squeeze. She bucked and tried to wiggle away, only to be cuffed on the back of her head with such force that she saw stars.
    “Be still, I say. Maybe you was a highfalutin young miss this mornin’, but now ye’re nothin’ but a fine swatch of calico I got plans to enjoy.”
    “Take your hands off me, you filthy good-for-nothing! My brothers will hunt you down like the dog you are and kill you for this day’s work!”
    The robber laughed and jerked up the back of Eden’s skirt. When she felt cool air slipping in through the slit of her bloomers, she shrieked and jabbed him in the side with her elbow. He snarled and grabbed her by the hair. The sting on Eden’s scalp brought tears to her eyes. The next instant, he wrenched her head back so far, she feared he might snap her neck, but at least he let go of her skirt.
    “You’re a little spitfire, ain’t ya? I ain’t never had me a redhead afore. You gonna fight me, sweet thing? I like a little spunk in my women. Never lasts, of course. Even the spitfires go to squealin’ and cryin’ after they get poked a few times. But it’ll be fun while the fight in you lasts.”
    When he released his hold on her hair, Eden slumped over the saddle, her head still spinning from the blow to her skull. Despite the pain in her belly from