Sagebrush Bride

chapter TWENTY EIGHT





Elizabeth’s heart nearly flew out of her breast when warm fingers brushed her leg unexpectedly. Stifling a cry of panic, she lay as still as she was able, afraid to wake Katie.

Please, oh, please be Cutter, she implored silently. Dear God, what if it wasn’t? What if it was Colyer?

She couldn’t bear it. It had to be Cutter! Why didn’t he speak? Well, of course she knew why he didn’t speak! she scolded herself hysterically. Sweet heaven above!

Awkwardly the hand groped about her lower legs, feeling for something, and then finding it, halted at the thick rope that lashed her feet together. With bated breath she waited, listening to the sound the knife made as it sawed through the rope.

At last there was a final rent and her legs fell free, numb but liberated.

Her heart pounding without mercy, she watched, her eyes wide, as the shadow crept up to her face... so close that she could hear the breath between them... but the darkness was too thick.

She couldn’t make out the face.

“Ma’am?” the voiced called out softly.

Elizabeth recoiled from it instantly. It wasn’t Cutter! her mind shrieked. Oh God—it wasn’t! In that moment she felt as close to madness as she had ever been in her life. She must have made some terrified sound, because in the next moment, a hand slipped tightly over her mouth, trapping a scream in her throat.

“Ma’am? It’s me, Jacob O’Neill. Don’t scream. I won’t hurt ya—” O’Neill’s words were cut off abruptly as the barrel of a rifle slammed into his back.

“Damned right you won’t, Blue-boy!” came a seething whisper.

Hearing Cutter’s drawl at last, Elizabeth felt her heart slam against her breast. She swallowed, unable to speak momentarily for the emotions that welled within her. Relief. Joy. Anger! Why had it taken him so long?



“I’d sooner see you in hell,” Cutter continued. Despite the fact that his strength was exhausted, and his body was staggering on the brink of hell itself, his voice sounded hard. “Now, get those hands up where I can see ‘em,” he said through his teeth.

O’Neill’s hand went up slowly, moonlight glinting off the knife as it ascended. “I was gonna let her go, mister—I swear it! If ya’d but come a second later, ya’d have heard me say so. I was aboot to cut her hands free, is all... S-Still will... if y’ll let me?”

A chill silence met his declaration, and he went on without being prompted. “Mister,” he advised in a nervous whisper. “If I’m gonna set her free, we’re gonna hafta hurry, ‘cause my watch’ll be over in another twenty minutes.” Still, only silence met him. “If ya ain’t gonna let me,” O’Neill continued, swallowing with difficulty, “then ya might as well put a bullet in ma back now, ‘cause Sulzberger will, if you don’t. If not him, Colyer then—he don’t like you too much on account of you slicing his ear.”

“Some folks have no sense of humor at all,” Cutter remarked so softly that it sent a chill down Elizabeth’s spine. “Pity that. I’d’ve thought he was chock-full of it.”

He don’t like you too much on account of you slicing his ear, Elizabeth heard again. She shivered at the subdued violence in Cutter’s answer—that and the fact that their exchange triggered a memory—the day she’d asked him why his horse had only half a right ear.

“Someone’s idea of a practical joke,” his voice echoed in her ear. “... Don’t reckon the man’s laughing any longer... . Just went a little too far in trying to provoke me, is all.”

“What did you do to him?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Her shoulders trembled faintly at the conclusion she drew, while at her breast, Katie began to stir, whimpering softly in her sleep.

“All right,” Cutter agreed abruptly, jabbing O’Neill in the back once more. “Cut her loose, then.”

“Yes, sir!” Jacob reached for Elizabeth immediately, almost eagerly. “Think ya can sit up for me, ma’am?”

Elizabeth nodded briskly, and then realizing he couldn’t see her gesture, she said, “I think so... ” And she tried, but her lack of arms to use for balance, along with Katie’s weight, brought her back down. She rolled slightly atop of Katie, waking her with a start. At once Katie began to whimper behind her gag.

“Shush, sweetheart,” Elizabeth whispered frantically. “Cutter’s here to take us home now. Don’t cry.” While she soothed Katie, Jacob helped her sit upright and immediately began to carve into the rope that bound her hands at her back.

“Be real still, now, ma’am... wouldn’t want ta cut ya... Just another—”

From somewhere within the darkness, gunfire erupted without warning. O’Neill’s remark ended with a gurgle and a choke as a bullet struck his windpipe. Elizabeth screamed as he slumped forward, into her, bringing her down under his weight. Katie screeched in terror, and Elizabeth reached for her instinctively, snapping the last frazzled thread of rope in her panic. Within seconds, another bullet whizzed by. And then another, striking the ground to her right. Recoiling from it, Elizabeth cried out in panic, trying to free herself and Katie from O’Neill’s dead weight. He was too heavy!

“O’Neill—y’ double-crossin’ bastard!” came Magnus’ sleep-hoarse voice.

With a savage war cry, Cutter thrust O’Neill’s body off Elizabeth.

Elizabeth automatically fumbled for the boy’s body, trying to reach him, to help him—drag him to safety at least. Her duty—the motions so inbred that she didn’t immediately think of her own safety, or even Katie’s.

Another shot whined overhead, coming from the opposite direction this time, and somewhere she heard feet scattering for cover. “Help me, Cutter—he’s hurt!”



“Not hurt!” he snapped. “Dead! Now get a move on, Doc!” Cutter seized her by the hair, jerking her backward without apologies. “Chrissakes, woman,” he snarled when she resisted. “Can’t fix this one either! Let go!” Coming near to dragging her, he withdrew deeper into the night, pulling Elizabeth up by her waist when he could, trying not to harm Katie as he dragged them both behind a small boulder, barely sufficient for cover. Above them, bullets sang. One struck the stone, ricocheting into the darkness.

Cutter drew his Colt out of his gun belt and pressed it into Elizabeth’s hand. “Stay low and shoot straight!” he demanded. “Gotta untie Katie.”

“B-But I—I can’t see!” Elizabeth gasped, her hand as shaky as her voice. “I can’t see to shoot!”

“Chrissakes!” Cutter reached out and pointed the gun in the general direction he intended for Elizabeth to fire, and then, in the same fluid motion, withdrew his knife from his boot, nudging Elizabeth when she didn’t immediately obey. “Just squeeze the damned trigger!”

Another volley of shots whizzed overhead, but Elizabeth could no longer tell whether they were coming or going. She froze. “A-Anywhere?” she asked frantically, her fingers shaking violently.

“Anywhere but at me!” Cutter shot back, shoving her head down without warning. “If y’ can’t see—don’t bother looking. Just keep the gun steady and squeeze the trigger.” At her back, he quickly found and slashed at the rope between Katie’s wrists, freeing her arms from around Elizabeth’s neck, then her feet. Jerking her from Elizabeth’s hold with a muttered curse, he removed the gag from Katie’s mouth and urged the child onto all fours. He shoved Elizabeth down again when her head came up too high, and belatedly it occurred to him that she hadn’t yet fired a single shot. He nudged her, hard. “Shoot!”



Having freed Katie, Cutter turned, surging upward against the boulder. Aiming his carbine straight into the night, he fired, reloading at once. His ears straining to pick up the sounds he needed, he fired again, repeating the process with calm proficiency. Then again, reloading as swiftly as he fired. Hampered as he was by his dull-as-ditchwater senses, and the lack of light to see by, Cutter was surprised when a grunt of pain ensued. But he smiled into the darkness and fired again.

Elizabeth squeezed her own trigger. As she fired a shot, another bullet struck the boulder, splintering rock and then ricocheting, interring itself into the ground nearby.

“Katie,” Cutter said, his voice tortured, turning to catch her by the arm. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Things weren’t going quite as he’d planned. Hell, he’d hoped Elias would get back before he was forced to go in. But he’d heard Elizabeth whimpering, and had reacted purely on instinct.

Terrified as she was, Katie’s head bobbed once in acknowledgment as she responded with the anticipated trust of a child.

Cutter felt the gesture more than he saw it. Relief washed over him, because he sure as hell needed her trust. “Good girl!” he said, while his mind groped for a solution. He’d forgotten Elizabeth couldn’t see distances. It only stood to reason she’d be blind as a bat at night. He’d planned to send her along with Katie, covering their backs while they ran for safety, but Elizabeth would likely lead them straight to hell that way. No, Katie was better off without her. Thing was, he wasn’t about to leave Elizabeth stranded, either—not knowing which way to run when the time came. If he left her now... he wasn’t certain he could make it back. He felt trapped between the devil and the deep sea.

He shook his mind clear and gripped Katie’s hand firmly. “All right now, Katie. Listen to me... I want you to crawl—straight as you can—fast as you can. I... ” Hell, he had no choice. He couldn’t let her go unprotected. “I’ll be right behind you,” he relented, his gut twisting.

Katie nodded again, but her little body tensed, and Cutter ruffled her curls in reassurance.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he repeated. Overhead, shots waned momentarily, then stopped for an instant, and Cutter shoved. “Go!” he hissed.

Katie scurried over the ground as quickly as her little hands and feet could carry her, and it was all Cutter could do to keep up.



It took Elizabeth a terrified moment to realize what had happened, that she was alone. But the instant she did, fright struck like cold steel into her heart. Desperately she tried to keep the panic from clutching her by the throat, smothering her breath. Her heart hammered with fear as she squeezed off the last shots in her revolver. But even before the last click, Cutter materialized from the darkness to seize the gun from her hands, as though he’d anticipated it. He resheathed it, and then jerked her down to her knees as another round of lead immediately flew over their heads.

Keeping low to the ground, Cutter led the way, jerking Elizabeth forward each time she lagged behind, the touch of his hand clammy on her arm. Finally, ducking bullets, they reached a much larger boulder. “Katie?” Cutter whispered as he dragged Elizabeth behind it.

Katie mumbled something unintelligible, and Cutter immediately rose against the boulder, leaving Elizabeth to do her part. She searched out Katie in the darkness, railing her name softly. With a frightened little whimper, Katie plunged into her arms, and Elizabeth urged her to keep silent.

The darkness was a mixed blessing—hiding them but shielding the men who fired on them. As the moments lengthened, gunfire became more sporadic, each side thinking to conserve ammo, each side aiming to win.

It was with relief that Elizabeth sensed the coming of daylight. As the first pink streaks of dawn stretched across the brightening sky, she huddled close to Katie, trying to cause the least possible distraction. Watching Cutter intently, she soothed the child, ran fingers through her curls, rocked her.

Her heart lurched as Cutter wavered suddenly on his feet.



Blinking hard, Cutter shook his head to fight away the darkness. In spite of the fact that night was waning, shadows were beginning to converge in his mind, closing in swiftly. There was no doubt about it now. He’d fought it off as long as he could.

He didn’t have long.

Again, he blinked and shook his head, staggering to his knees. He knew better than to panic. Panic would lay them all six feet under. But his strength was fading quickly. He turned abruptly, his back slamming against the boulder as he fell backward, his hair and clothing soaked with sweat. Without a word, he lifted his Colt up out of his belt and began to lever bullets into the firing chamber.

“Cutter?”



Seeing his eyes close briefly, Elizabeth startled. Crying out, she slid Katie off her lap and threw herself at him.

“Cutter!”