Charlene Sands Read Online Free Page A

sleeping beside her.
    She rose to a cloudy dawn, the bite in the air slightly lessened from last night’s by a reluctant sun struggling through gray skies. Surveying their little campsite, she was relieved to find Bodine’s horse still tethered to the tree branch. Yet, as she walked the slight perimeter, there was no sign of him anywhere. “Bodine?” She moved past Lola and away from the thicket of shrubs surrounding her. “Bodine,” she called again, her attention darting around full circle, hoping to find him.
    Then she heard the sounds of dismay. Scuffling sounds, voices low and menacing, one of the baritones sounding distinctly like Bodine’s. She headed toward the ruckus, hugging her coat to her chest, fearful of what she might find as the clouded light helped guide her. And not fifty yards from where she’d slept, she found Bodine, fending off two men of near equal breadth and strength.
    Emma hid behind a tall leaning spruce, holding back her alarm with a hand to her mouth. Bodine fought both men, his fists bloodied, his face enraged as the taller man attempted to pin his arms, while the broader one with beefy hands tried to pummel him. But Bodine slipped from the man’s grip, punched him in the gut and went after the other, his steps calculated and efficient.
    Fists flew fast and furiously. The man grunted and growled at Bodine, but he kept on him like a predator stalking prey. A knife appeared and Emma’s heart raced with dread. The taller man lurched toward Bodine, the knife angled toward his heart, but Bodine jumped out of the way just in time.
    Emma knew he was in trouble now. Without a knife of his own, the two men would surely wear Bodine down and he’d be killed.
    She prayed for guidance and her silent plea was answered quickly when she spied Bodine’s revolver lying in the underbrush, barely visible. It must have been knocked from his hand somehow, because Emma believed he’d never have relinquished his weapon otherwise.
    She knew she had to take this chance. There was no backing down. Bodine was losing ground, the man with the knife having the better advantage. She’d already seen him swipe at Bodine’s arm, cutting through his thick coat. Emma prayed he hadn’t broken flesh with that slash. Without wasting another second, she raced toward the gun and grabbed it, before being noticed.
    With shaky hands, she pointed the gun toward the assailants, but Bodine was too close. She knew little of guns or how to shoot them. Her aim might hit the wrong target, the man risking his life to protect her.
    She pointed the gun skyward instead and pulled the trigger. The blast staggered her a moment and she nearly fell. But the shot also distracted all three men. They looked to her in surprise.
    “You little bitch,” the beefy-handed man yelled, and it was enough of a distraction for Bodine to react. He wrangled the knife out of the tall man’s hand, while she trained the gun she had no idea how to shoot on the shorter, barrel of a man. “Hold still, or I’ll shoot.”
    Bodine staggered back a moment. He’d been injured, the blood pouring out of his shoulder true testimony. But soon he regained some strength and came over to her. She relinquished the gun to his outstretched hand. “Shouldn’t have left the camp, Emmy,” he said with a stern tone, but there was a mark of admiration in his eyes she couldn’t miss.
    He held the men at gunpoint with his right hand, while holding his shoulder with the other. Blood oozed from his fingers as color drained from his face.
    “Get the rope from one of their horses. Tie them up. Hands and feet.” Then he sliced her a look. “Hurry.”
    Emmy knew Bodine was short on strength. She worked fast, tying up the men who Bodine had instructed to sit on the ground. Then Bodine made her stuff kerchiefs into their mouths, knotting them at the back of their heads. “Are we leaving them here?” she asked, once all was done.
    Bodine nodded.
    Emma glanced at the two,