Bonds of Matrimony (42 page)

           
“Are
you warm enough?” he asked.

           
Chase
nodded.
 
She was squeezed between
Colton and Elisabeth in their lorry.
 
He had insisted that he drive her home, even though it was out of his
way.
 
George Wainwright was
puttering along in his car ahead of them, while Marcus rode his own horse and
led his sister’s home without a rider.

           
“Did
you notice my sister and Tom tonight?
 
They seemed to spend a few too many numbers dancing and enjoying
themselves.”

           
“Hmmm,”
was his only response.

           
“Marcus
sure has his hands full with his two willful sisters.”

           
“Not
to mention his grandmother,” Colton added, chuckling.
 
“I don’t envy the man.”

           
“We
can’t help ourselves.
 
It runs in
the family.”

           
“God
help me if we have daughters,” he muttered.

           
Chase
elbowed him squarely in the ribs and caught Elisabeth smiling at their playful
bickering.

           
“Be
careful, woman, or I won’t take you home after all.”
 
His grin was sexy and suggestive, and it was tempting to
urge him on straight to his house.

           
“Stop
it, Colton,” Elisabeth admonished, putting an abrupt end to their flirtations.

           
Up
ahead, a man on horseback moved into the road to block the way.
 
An identical figure joined the
first.
 
Tom rode beside Marcus and
pulled his horse around to face the rear.

           
“They’ve
got us blocked in,” he whispered loudly enough for both Marcus and Colton to
hear.

           
Chase
could hear the gentleman on horseback behind them, and two more appeared on
either side of their lorry.
 
The
horse behind them pulled up even with them.

           
“Good
evening, Lady Fairfax.”
 
In spite
of the warmth of Webb’s body beside hers, a cold shudder wracked her body at
the sound of Jett Stockton’s voice.
 
She suddenly noticed a cool breeze stirring as the sun was preparing to
set on this Labor Day.

           
Four
of the five men had shotguns in their hands.
 
One of the men cocked his gun and trained the weapon
squarely on her brother.
 
Stockton
was the only man who didn’t have a gun in his hands, but he did have a large
handgun on his hip and was obviously ready to draw at a moment’s notice.

           
“You’re
wasting your time here, Mr. Stockton.
 
I’m not returning to England with you,” Chase announced loudly.
 
Her voice sounded steadier than she
expected.

           
“On
the contrary, m’lady, that’s exactly what you are going to do.”

           
A
second man cocked his gun and aimed at the rear of George Wainwright’s
automobile.
 
Her grandmother,
Reese, and Elisa were in that seat with the baby.

           
“Get
out of the lorry,” he instructed Chase coldly.

           
Terror
for the safety of the other women made her legs tremble as he stood to climb
down, but Colton stopped her by grabbing her arm.
 
“She’s staying with us, Stockton.”

           
She
shook her head at him, silently pleading.
 

           
“You’re
not going anywhere,” he whispered intently.
 
The urgency in his eyes softened his strong hold that was
already bruising her upper arm.

           
“My
family.
 
And the baby,” she
whispered.

           
He
released her arm and watched her begin to climb out of the lorry.
 
Stockton rushed toward them and
impatiently jerked Chastity off of the carriage, causing her to fall to the
ground.
 
A pain shot up through her
hip and to her shoulder.
 
Colton
made a move to help her, but a third gun was aimed at him.
 
Elisabeth grabbed his arm and pulled
him back into his seat.

           
While
nursing her shoulder and hip, Chase reached for her left ankle.
 
She managed to barely wrap her fingers
around the gun that was holstered beneath her skirt at her ankle.
 
Then Stockton leaned over in his saddle
and pulled her roughly to her feet by the hair and lifted her into the saddle
in front of him, tossing her over his lap.
 
He dug his heels into his horse, and his knee caught Chase
on the side of her cheek.
 
She
cried out in pain as flashes of darkness filled her vision.
 
For a moment, she feared she would lose
consciousness and drop her gun, but she managed to stay alert.

           
As
they rode away, Stockton growled, “Do what you’d like with them.”

           
They
weren’t ten paces away when an eruption of gunfire broke out.
 
Chase strained against him to see what
was happening, but he pushed her head back down against his leg.
 
Panic began to take hold.
 
She wanted to scream or flail and hit
out at something or someone.
 
But she
suddenly felt paralyzed.
 
Voices
yelled, a woman screamed, baby Jacob’s wails could barely be heard above all
the other commotion.

           
She
could almost envision her family in their final moments.
 
Even her own terror could not slow her
racing mind.
 
She refused to live a
life of servitude with this would-be rapist who could be responsible for
murdering the people she loved.

           
Chase
fell limp for a few strides and then used all of her strength to thrust her
body up and off of his lap.
 
She
fell to the ground and pushed herself up onto her knees as he rounded the horse
and came back for her.
 
Pulling the
gun up before her, she used both hands to steady the weapon and aim before
squeezing the trigger.

           
Stockton’s
right shoulder jerked backward, and he nearly fell off of his horse.
 
He pulled his weapon and was bringing
it around toward her when she shot him a second time.
 
This time, he
did
fall off of his horse.

           
Chase
scrambled to her feet as he staggered to his.

           
“You
stupid bitch!” he screamed.
 
Spittle flew from his mouth and dripped onto his chin.
 
“You are
mine
!
 
And if I have to
bring you back to England in a pine box, I will happily do just that!”
 
He looked down and realized that he had
dropped the gun when he fell off the horse.
 
He hesitated only a moment before roaring in rage and
running straight for Chastity.
 
With his teeth bared and spotted with chewing tobacco, he was both
terrifying and revolting.

           
The
gun jammed in her hand and would not fire.
 
She squeezed the trigger repeatedly, but to no avail.
 
His body hit hers full force, both of them
falling to the ground.
 
His weight
landed on top of her and knocked the breath out of her.
 
She suddenly had a flashback to that
afternoon in his father’s library, but she knew his father was not going to
accidentally save her this time.

           
“If
any member of my family has been harmed…” she began.

           
“It
was my pleasure,” he leered.
 
Wrapping his hands around her throat, he began slowly choking the life
out of her.

           
A
warm stickiness soaked through her blouse, and she knew it was his blood.
 
But as the black spots began to fill her
vision for the second time in only a few minutes, Chase knew that he would
strangle her before he bled to death.
 
The thought of his body lying dead on top of her own made her stomach
turn and lurch.
 
Had his hands not
been tight around her neck, she might have gagged or vomited.

           
And
then a gunshot rang out.
 
His body
jerked above hers, and a warm mist sprayed her face.
 
And then he fell upon her, slowly suffocating her with his
weight and his stench.
 
Chase heard
a stifled grunt as someone struggled with the dead weight of Stockton’s body,
but he was soon rolled off of her.

           
She
sucked in the fresh evening air hungrily and wiped frantically in an attempt to
get his blood off of her face.
 
A
figure leaned over her for a moment before kneeling, putting the smoking gun
down on the ground, and brushing the blood-matted hair off of her forehead.

           
“Are
you okay, sweetheart?”

           
She
nodded slowly and winced in pain.
 
“Yes, Grandmother, I’m fine.”

CHAPTER 24

           
“Be
careful.
 
Don’t hurt yourself,” Chase
warned while holding her hands out as though to catch him if he fell.

           
Colton
climbed off of his horse without incident and adjusted his arm in his
sling.
 
“I’m fine.
 
Stop worrying about me.
 
We’ll walk from here.”

           
It
had been one week since the Labor Day shooting, and all had returned to normal
in Slaughter, Texas.
 
Three of
Stockton’s four men were killed in the gunfight and the fourth gunman, Tom, and
Colton were struck by gunfire.
 
While this was occurring, the elegant Lady Colchester had pushed out of
the automobile, grabbed the shotgun of one of the fallen gunmen, and come
running after Jett Stockton’s horse.
 
She saw her granddaughter fall from the horse and had assumed that
Stockton had thrown her off.
 
She paused
only a moment when she saw Chastity sit up and pull her gun on the man, as he
rounded his horse and charged toward her.
 

           
“Here
it is,” Webb announced with a grand sweep of his left arm.

           
Chase
looked out to where he gestured and smiled.
 
“Our pond.”

           
“No.
 
I’m talking about this.”
 
He leaned casually onto a stake that
had been pounded into the ground.

           
“A
stake?”

           
“This
stake marks the site of our wedding ceremony.
  
As soon as my arm lets me, I’m going to build you a
beautiful white gazebo.
 
And then
we’re going to get married right here.”

           
“Here?”

           
“I
thought it would be appropriate.”
 
He shrugged casually.
 
“Or
if you’d prefer, we can get married in the church.”

           
Between
settling in, the ranch, her new baby nephew, and the threat of Jett Stockton, Chase
realized she hadn’t even been to church in Slaughter yet.
 
“There’s a church here?” she asked,
surprised.

           
“Sure.
 
They hold services in Chantal’s on
Sundays.”

           
“This
will be a beautiful place to get married,” she laughed.

           
“So
you’re still interested in gettin’ hitched, Cochrane?”

           
“Are
you proposing, Webb?”

           
“Nope,”
he grinned.
 

           
“Funny
how things change, isn’t it?
 
I
once thought marriage was another form of death.”

           
“And
now?”

           
“Now
I can’t imagine life without you.”

           
“And
how about those bonds of matrimony you once mentioned?”