“Stop! Stop this at once!” she shouted, reining her mare near the fighting men. But she might as well have been talking to the wind, for no one, not even the man sprawled on the ground still as a corpse, paid her the least bit of attention.
Dismounting, she pulled her umbrella from the rifle scabbard and rushed forward into the melee, brandishing it enthusiastically, as if it were the shiniest silver saber. “Stop beating that man!” she screamed again, hitting one of the attackers on the back of his legs.
Jacob paused, fist in midair, and turned to stare at the stranger who’d struck him, then he grinned. “Lookee here, Bodine. Looks like you got yourself a champion. And a purty one at that.”
The other brothers turned, then Jeremiah laughed aloud that Bodine’s champion was a woman. “Whoooeee! Look at that fancy lace umbrella. I’m quaking in my boots.”
The cowboy’s laughter halted abruptly when Wilhemina jabbed the point of her weapon straight into his midsection; he grunted in pain. “You should be ashamed of yourself! You should all be ashamed. This isn’t a fair fight.”
“Yeah? Well it weren’t fair when Bodine dishonored our sister neither,” Joseph pointed out, making Wilhemina blush to the tips of her sturdy boots.
She glanced at the man sprawled on the ground. There was nothing in his swollen, discolored face that spoke of handsomeness or cad-like behavior, although the mustache he wore made him look a tad sinister. But there was nothing that indicated the man giving the beating was telling the truth either.
When the tip of the man’s boot plowed into the injured man’s stomach, Wilhemina decided that she’d had enough and swung her umbrella wildly at Joseph, catching him in the eye and making him curse loudly.
“You’ll pay for that, you hell-cat. You hear me?” Joseph stepped forward, flashing her a threatening look, and Wilhemina reached inside her reticule to withdraw the derringer hidden there. Aiming it near the man’s feet, she fired.
Joseph jumped higher than a cockroach on a hot skillet. “Hey, lady! Watch it. You almost hit my foot.”
“I would have hit your foot, mister, if I’d been aiming at it. Let me assure you that I’m a very good shot.”
The men stopped what they were doing and eyed her warily--except for the youngest, Jedediah, who took umbrage at being bested by a woman and shook his fist at her, screaming, “You shouldn’t get involved in something you know nothing about, lady. We owe Bodine a beating. Now run home and attend to your knitting.” A cocky grin split his face.
“I’m already involved. And I don’t knit. So why don’t you boys call it a night. This man has been injured enough, and I’d hardly call this an equitable fight.”
“Yeah. But what he did to Lorna Mae wasn’t eq..eq...fair neither. She’s in the family way now, and this no good varmint is to blame.”
Shocked by the unexpected revelation, Wilhemina’s eyes widened, but she held firmly on to her gun and her convictions, and didn’t back down. “I’ll count to three. If you’re not gone from here, I’m going to start shooting, and I’m going to start with the baby-faced boy over there.” She aimed at Jedediah, who started toward her but was held back by his brother.
Joseph snatched his hat from the ground and swatted it against his pant leg; a billow of dust rose in the air. “We’ll leave, lady, but this ain’t over. Not by a long shot. Only now, we’ll have the two of you to get even with instead of just Bodine.”
Ethan coaxed one cautious eye open and stared up at his rescuer. He would have opened two, but the other was swollen shut tighter than a corset on a two-hundred pound whore, and it smarted like the dickens.
The woman, for all her ferocity, wasn’t much bigger than a minute. But she was definitely so well-rounded in all the right places that even a blind man would have noticed. And he wasn’t quite blind, just slightly impaired.
Dressed in a white shirtwaist--still spotless despite the altercation--and navy skirt, with her chestnut-brown hair peeking from beneath the crown of a felt hat, she appeared to be a no-nonsense kind of woman. She’d certainly been zealous in her defense of him--something he hadn’t expected from a member of the opposite sex.
Wilhemina blushed under the scrutiny. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to assist you to your feet. The way you’re staring at me, I feel like I’ve just grown two heads.”
“I can barely see your one head, ma’am, as swollen as my eye is. And if I’m staring, it’s only because I’m not used to having a woman help me.”
She wrapped her arm gently around his middle and assisted him to his feet. “I can’t abide an unfair fight.”
Wincing in pain, Ethan finally managed to stand. His brow was sweating so profusely, his ears ringing so loudly in his head, he thought surely he’d embarrass himself by passing out cold, puking, or both.
“I think some of my ribs might be broken.”
“If you’ll allow me to assist you, I know a place where we can get help. I’ll be able to tend your wounds there.”
Though it picked at his pride to be rescued by a woman, and twice in the same day, Ethan decided to take her up on her offer. His pride was bruised all to hell, but his body was in much worse condition.
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