The Outsider by Rosalyn West

Starla’s gaze flew to meet the single question in the lieutenant’s dark eyes.
    Do you want my help?
    She could have asked for a more preferable rescuer, but having no choice in the matter, she signaled a frantic Yes!
    “Excuse me, gents. Don’t be hurrying Miss Fairfax off so quick. The lady promised to join me for breakfast, and I hate to drink my coffee alone when I can enjoy it in such lovely company.”
    Starla flashed him a dazzling smile. “Why, Mr. Dodge, how could I have forgotten you? Please forgive my rudeness.” To the men who still retained her arms, she said with frosty clarity, “As I said, gentlemen, we’ll make it another time.”
    But they didn’t release her. They paid her no mind at all.
    “Stay out of it, Yank,” growled Benton. He gave Starla a jerk toward the street to circumvent the barrier of Dodge’s crutch.
    “I can’t do that,” came Dodge’s quiet reply. For all its lack of volume, his statement carried an unavoidable challenge. The two men paused to reassesshim. They smirked between themselves.
    Her look of entreaty never left the stocky banker’s face. Starla knew she was asking him to take her part against insurmountable odds. Her father’s men were brutal creatures, weighted down with more muscle than brain. Next to them, the upstart Yankee appeared small and insignificant, offering about as much opposition as a crippled bug beneath an upraised boot sole. She should have felt guilty about encouraging him to take an inevitable beating while she escaped, but she hadn’t called to him to interfere. And he didn’t look as though he had the least intention of backing down.
    In case they misinterpreted him the first time, Dodge said, again with bulldog tenacity, “Let the lady go.”
    Milton gave a gruff laugh and shook his head. “And just what the hell are you going to do if we say no?”
    He didn’t have long to wait for an answer.
    Dodge’s crutch swung downward in a fierce arc, smashing into the side of Milton’s knee with enough force nearly to turn it inside out. The giant staggered back, only his hold on Starla keeping him on his feet. Immediately Dodge jabbed the crutch like a lance into the instep of Benton’s foot, causing him to howl in pain and surprise. When Benton took a lumbering swing at the banker, the crutch flashed up into the man’s groin. Benton froze, his features purpling as he dropped to his knees.
    Freed of Milton’s grasp as he bent down to assist his friend, Starla skirted them both with an anxious two-step to slip behind her surprisingly effectiverescuer. Dodge could hear her rapid breathing at his back, detailing her fright, and it made him angry enough to think about finishing off the two bastards. But it was more important to get her away from the increasing curiosity of those around them than to exact a justifiable revenge.
    He glanced around to where Starla stood in a quiver of delayed shock. His slow smile was meant to calm her.
    “They won’t be bothering you again for a while, ma’am.”
    Starla wet her lips. “Thank you, Lieutenant Dodge.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
    “I meant what I said about that coffee.”
    Her stare had all the expression of green bottle glass.
    Very gently he placed his palm at the small of her back. He felt tremors racing along her spine in frantic ripples and knew her composure wouldn’t last more than another moment or two.
    “C’mon, Miss Starla. Sit down with me for a while.”
    He thought she’d continue to balk when abruptly she gave before the persuasion of his guiding touch and preceded him to his destination of Sadie’s boardinghouse. She made no objection when they were shown to a back table in the dining room. There she sat posed for flight on the edge of the chair, her eyes huge and gem-bright in a face pale enough to alarm him. He ordered his usual breakfast without taking his eyes from his strangely inanimate companion, then asked, “Coffee, Miss Fairfax?” No