Hunter's Moon (Hunter Family Saga; Half-Moon Ranch 1) (6 page)

He saw the back door open and Opal came out.
He drew his knife, but he didn't plan to use it. Smil ing grimly to himself, he crept nearer to wait for the
right moment to attack.

Crystal didn't pay much attention to her
surroundings. She came this way every night and
always felt safe. Just then, though, she heard the
sound of footsteps coming up behind her. She
paused, puzzled, and began to turn to see who it
was. As she did, she started to open her purse so she
could get the small derringer she'd started carrying
with her just in case of trouble.

Crystal didn't react quickly enough. The big man
loomed over her before she could get the gun. He
roughly grabbed at her purse and tried to jerk it
from her grasp. Crystal had the strap wrapped
around her wrist, though, and she held on for dear
life.

It was then that she saw his knife.

No!" she cried out, fighting back.

Time had passed slowly for Brent as he'd kept
watch. He eventually began to doubt the need for his
continued vigilance. There was no one else around,
and he was getting tired. It had been a long day. He
had just made up his mind to continue on to his
hotel room when he saw the man emerge from his
hiding place and move off down the alley. He waited
a moment longer, wondering what the man was up
to, but all remained quiet.

Brent was convinced that he'd overreacted, that there was nothing going on. He started on his way
again, looking forward to a good night's sleep.

"No!" The distant, faint sound of a woman's cry
of distress came from the alley.

A sudden chill of dread filled Brent as he realized
his instincts had been right. The man he'd seen had
been planning to cause trouble. Brent drew his
sidearm and raced off in the direction of the
woman s scream.

"Give me that!" Mick said with a snarl, yanking
on her purse again. When he still couldn't tear it
loose, he tried to slash the strap.

Brent charged into the alley to see the man
attacking a woman with a knife. Brent couldn't tell
who the woman was in the darkened passageway,
and it didn't matter. He had to help her. He fired a
warning shot in the air.

"Hold it right there!" Brent ordered.

Mick stopped, startled by the gunshot. When he
saw Brent aiming his gun straight at him, Mick
reacted instinctively, grabbing the singer and holding
her before him.

Crystal continued to struggle against her assailant,
but he held the knife up for her to see.

"Hold still, woman!"

She froze, uncertain what to do. The man's grip
on her was brutal.

Brent closed in on them. As he drew nearer, he
could see the woman clearly for the first time.
"Opal! Are you all right?"

"Yes," she managed.

"Let her go," Brent demanded. "Get away from
her now or my next shot won't just be a warning.
The next shot will stop you permanently."

"Go to hell!" In one violent move, Mick cut
through the strap and made a grab for the purse as
he gave Crystal a savage shove.

Crystal tried to resist, but she was no match for
his strength. She lost her balance and fell as he
yanked the purse from her hands.

Mick had what he wanted, and he took off
running in the opposite direction.

Brent would have taken a shot at him, but he
didn't want to risk putting Opal in danger.

"Are you all right?" he asked her quickly as he
holstered his gun.

"Yes, but he got my purse!"

Assured that she was uninjured, Brent charged
after the robber and caught up with him before he
could get out of the alley. He tackled him full-force,
knocking him to the ground.

The purse flew from Mick's grip as they began to
fight savagely.

Crystal scrambled to her feet, shaken and
dazed. She looked around for something she
could use as a weapon to help Brent, but there
was nothing.

Brent was furious, and when Mick managed to
slash his upper arm with his knife, Brent's anger only
increased. A driven man, he continued to pum mel the thief, and finally managed to knock the
knife from his hand.

Brent barely heard the shouts coming from the
entrance to the alley.

"This is Sheriff Watson! What's going on down
there?" the lawman yelled as he ran toward the scene
of the fight.

George, his deputy, was right behind him, ready
to back him up. They'd heard the gunshot as they'd
been out making their rounds and had come to
investigate.

Some saloon patrons had heard the shot, too, and
had come outside to see what was going on. When
they saw the lawmen heading down the alley, they
followed them.

Brent didn't give up the fight until he'd finally
landed a powerful blow to Mick's jaw. Only then
did he rise up over the would-be robber. He jerked
Mick up by his shirtfront, ready to hit him again,
but the man had gone limp. In disgust, Brent
dropped him back to the ground and got up to stand
over him in triumph.

"Don't make any moves," the sheriff ordered,
bringing his gun to bear on Brent.

"Sheriff Watson, it's all right!" Crystal spoke up
quickly in Brent's defense. "Mr. Hunter just saved
me from the other man-he robbed me." Her voice
trembled slightly.

"Is that so?" The sheriff took a look at the
unconscious man and recognized him as the drunk named Mick. Mick had a reputation around town as
an ugly troublemaker. This wouldn't be the first
time he'd had him under arrest.

"I don't know what I would have done if Mr.
Hunter hadn't shown up when he did." Her voice
remained unsteady as she realized the seriousness of
the threat she'd just faced.

Sheriff Watson looked over at the stranger she
called Hunter, and nodded. "Good work. We'll take
Mick on back to jail and lock him up. Were you
hurt, Miss Opal? Do you need to see the doc?"

"No... I'm fine." She was shaken but uninjured.

"What about you, Hunter?" The lawman saw the
blood on his arm.

"It's nothing. Just a scratch." Brent reached down
and picked up Crystal's purse.

Sheriff Watson looked at her again. "Do you want
to press charges against Mick?"

"Yes... No.. I don't know. I just don't want
him hurting anyone else." Crystal knew the thief
deserved to be locked up, but she didn't want to
involve herself with the law. The farther she stayed
away from the sheriff and his deputies, the better.

Watson thought he understood her hesitancy. "I'll
take care of him. Mick won't bother you again," the
sheriff said with conviction. "I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you, Sheriff." She was relieved.

"If you want to come along with us now, one of
us will walk you home after we get him locked
up.

"I can see her home," Brent offered, glancing at
Opal.

"Yes, thank you," she told him appreciatively. The
sooner she got away from there, the better she would
feel.

Brent went to her side and handed over her purse
as Sheriff Watson and George each grabbed one of
Mick's arms. George picked up the knife and then
they dragged the unconscious man bodily from the
alley.

The men who'd come out of the saloon to watch
hurried back inside to tell everybody what had
happened.-

Only when everyone had gone did Brent finally
speak.

11 Are you sure you're all right?" He realized how
terrifying the attack must have been for her.

"Yes-you showed up just in time." She
swallowed tightly, suppressing a shiver.

"I'm glad I did," he told her earnestly.

"So am I."

"Is everything there?" Brent asked, gesturing
toward her purse.

Crystal looked quickly through the contents, then
smiled at him in relief. "Yes."

She did not show him the derringer. She didn't
want to have to explain to him why she'd been
carrying it. She closed her purse again.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Brent said.

"What about your arm? Are you sure it's not se rious?" She could see the blood on his shirtsleeve
now.

Brent flexed his arm. "It's not bad. I'll take care of
it later, after I see you back home."

They didn't say much as they made their way to
the boardinghouse where she rented a room. Crystal
appreciated Brent's powerful presence by her side.
She had thought having the derringer with her
would keep her safe, but she hadn't been quick
enough to save herself. She silently vowed that
would never happen again.

"This is where I live," Crystal said, stopping
before the house. "Thanks for walking with me."

"You're welcome," Brent said as he gazed down at
her. He had thought she was beautiful before, but
there in the moonlight she was even lovelier.

"I know I said earlier that I was only going to kiss
one man tonight, and that was Andy, because he was
my hero. But I have two heroes tonight," she said
softly. Reaching up, she drew his head down and
kissed him on the cheek.

The faint, heady scent of her perfume surrounded
Brent. He was tempted to take Opal in his arms and
kiss her full on the lips, but he controlled the urge.
Instead he managed an easy smile as she stepped
away from him. "I'm going to have a hard time
living up to the example of a man like Andy."

"I don't think so." Crystal smiled at her tall,
handsome hero. "I think it might be the other way
around."

"Why, thank you, ma'am." He grinned down at
her.

"Good night, Brent Hunter."

"Good night, Opal."

She turned and quickly went inside.

Brent waited until she'd closed the door. Only
when he was sure she was safely in the house did he
leave.

He was glad that he'd trusted his instincts, and
hadn't gone on back to his hotel, as he'd considered
doing. He didn't want to think about what might
have happened to Opal if he hadn't been there to go
to her aid.

Brent glanced back at the boardinghouse once,
committing to memory this moment, for he knew he
wouldn't see her again. He had responsibilities
weighing heavily on him. He had a ranch to run and
a family to take care of.

Once Crystal had gone inside, she hurried
upstairs to the privacy of her small, rented room.
She did not light a lamp, but went to stand at the
window so she could watch Brent leave without
being seen. She was surprised when he stopped
once and looked back her way. She slipped behind
the curtain, not wanting him to know she was
watching him. Her gaze lingered longingly on his
tall, manly form as he disappeared down the
night-shrouded street.

Brent Hunter had truly been her hero tonight.
There weren't many men who would have put themselves at risk the way he had to save a saloon
girl from being robbed. Brent was a rare man, a very
special man, indeed.

When Brent had gone from sight, Crystal turned
away from the window. As she undressed and
scrubbed herself clean of any trace of Mick's vile
touch, she wouldn't let herself think that her hero
had truly gone from her life forever.

As he made his way to his hotel, Brent realized that
the effects of the liquor he'd drunk had worn off.
His earlier easy mood was gone, and his dark,
troubled thoughts were returning with a vengeance.

Brent was tempted to go back to the bar for
another few rounds, but he denied himself that
cowardly release.

He wasn't like his father. He couldn't hide from
the reality that was his life any longer. Tomorrow he
had to ride for Huntsville. Soon his father was going
to be released from prison after serving his ten-year
sentence.

He had to be there to meet him.

Brent stood in front of the warden's office at the
Huntsville prison, waiting for the moment he'd been
dreading.

Today his father was being released from prison.
At any minute he was going to be walking out of the
office, a free man.

Brent girded himself for the confrontation to
come. He was as ready as he would ever be.

He had arrived in Huntsville late the night before
and had taken a room at a small, run-down hotel.
He'd gotten little sleep overnight, though, for he was
tense and troubled over the reunion to come.

How could he face his father again? This was the
man who'd shot his mother...

Brent's jaw locked as he fought to maintain the
steely control he usually kept over his emotions. He'd thought he'd gotten over the loss. He'd
thought he'd learned how to handle life and all its
troubles.

The feelings churning within him proved him
wrong. The emotions tearing at him were almost as
painful now as they had been all those years before.

Brent prided himself on being a man who was
always in control, and it angered him to feel this
way. He felt it was a weakness, and he couldn't
afford to be weak. Too much depended on his being
strong. He was the head of the family now-at least,
he was until his father returned.

Brent knew the upcoming reunion was going to
be difficult. As hard as he'd worked in the last ten
years to save the ranch, he was not about to turn it
back over to his father and risk having him run it
into ruin again. His father had put him in charge
that terrible, fateful day, and he intended to stay in
charge. Even as he thought it, though, Brent knew
his father's name was still on the ranch title. His
father was the legal owner of the Half-Moon.

Brent remembered clearly the day when the letter
had come from the prison informing him of their
father's upcoming release date. It had stated that Jack
requested his family meet him there at the prison.
Brent hadn't understood his reasoning. He wanted
them there that day, but he hadn't wanted any contact
with them for the ten years he'd been locked up.

The request hadn't really mattered, though, for
there had been no way to arrange such a reunion. Both Quince and Matt were gone from the HalfMoon, and though Abby lived at the ranch with
him, Brent wasn't about to subject her to such an
ordeal. He knew she thought she was tough enough,
but she wasn't. Sometimes he had to protect his
sister from herself.