Lone Wolf Justice (2 page)

It couldn’t be no crueler than her Mr. Burton. The thought of that brute marrying her made Justice’s innards twist.

“Let’s have a moment of reflection.” She bowed her head, her ridiculous bonnet shielding her eyes. “Now then.” She smiled up at him, her shining face like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds, and his entire body ached something painful. “There is nothing to prevent us from being wed.”

Wed? Him and her? “Ma’am --”

“Miss Diana Chatsworth.” She stroked his rough skin with her silk-covered index finger. It occurred to him that he should release her hand, but she wasn’t complaining, and those gloves were the softest thing he’d ever touched so he held on. “You call me Di.”

“I do?” This conversation made his talks with Two Tails, the town mystic, seem downright logical.

“You do.” She nodded, the fabric flowers on her bonnet rustling. “Will the preacher, as I believe you call him, be available now? I prefer to be married right away. I’ve already run through a couple of bridegrooms, you understand.”

If she was referring to Burton as being one, she needn’t fret. The same grisly end wouldn’t happen to Justice, as he wasn’t piss-ass drunk and riding the wrong horse. “We ain’t getting hitched, Ma’am, Miss Di,” Justice clarified, wondering what had done happened to the other bridegroom.

“I’ll marry you, Ma’am,” Hoss, Billy’s dad, piped up. There was a chorus of “I will’s” from the women-starved men, irking Justice to no end.

“Ummm…” Miss Di bit her bottom lip like she was considering accepting their offers.

That wasn’t happening. “No,” Justice growled, the wolf in him clawing to the surface. Heads turned in his direction, including the one covered in pink. They expected him to say something, but he had nothing to add.
She ain’t marrying any of them, end of the tale
.

“Why not?” Miss Di, his Miss Di, gave him a cheeky smile. She had dimples, and Justice knew right then and there he was a goner, as no man worth nothing could resist dimples. “I came here to be wed. That’s why I agreed to be a mail order bride, and having never met poor Mr. Burton, I suppose one bridegroom is as good as another.” She surveyed her choices. The men stood a little straighter, sucking in their innards, their hats in their hands. “They all seem so nice. I could --”

Justice had plumb done heard enough. “You ain’t marrying no one but me.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he gritted his teeth, knowing that someone would now point out how Miss Di could do better than a no-account half-breed like him. That was why he didn’t yammer on much. When he did, he said some dang fool things.

“Then let’s find the preacher, shall we?” Miss Di tugged her hand away, and he reluctantly released her. She took his arm, her breasts brushing against him, that ample chest having no stuffing in it. It was all firm flesh.

“You don’t want him, Ma’am,” a man hollered as they walked toward the church. “Wolf,” “half-breed,” and “no-account” were flung their way.

“I’m what they say I am, Miss Di,” Justice felt honor-bound to confess. “I’m half human and half --” He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t stand to see the horror on her purty face.

“I know.” Miss Di patted his arm, her smile not dimming one bit.

She couldn’t know what else he was. She came from out East, that was clear from her fancy clothes and her uppity way of talking, and there weren’t no beings like his departed pa out east, not that he was knowing of.

Although he ruminated a reply, Justice said nothing more. He’d done enough talking for one day, plus his newly acquired wife-to-be was chirping happily about baking biscuits and hanging shirts and helping him with his lawmaking, whatever she believed that was, and he didn’t have the innards to interrupt her flow of words.

Chapter Two

Diana ladled the hearty beef stew into the tin container, humming a happy tune, pleased with how the first meal she’d ever prepared had turned out. It wasn’t perfect -- there had been a slight misunderstanding on how much a pinch of salt was -- but her new husband would appreciate her efforts, and he’d know she was more than a pretty face. She placed the freshly baked biscuits in the basket also. Although they were flatter and heavier than she remembered other people’s biscuits being, they were as round, and the same golden brown.

The adorable little house with the fully stocked larder had surprised Diana, as she’d been expecting the rented room she’d read many bachelor men resided in. When he’d opened the door, Justice had mumbled something about it coming with the badge. He’d then left her there to familiarize herself with their new home, since he had to return to his job, keeping the citizens of Big Rock safe.

Diana didn’t laze around, like she desperately wanted to. Determined to make a good impression on her husband, she cleaned the already clean house, ironed his shirts, which was a bit tricky, as she’d at first misjudged the temperature of the iron, and made him dinner.

She tied her bonnet’s ribbons under her chin and lifted the heavy basket. Justice couldn’t return to the house, he’d explained before he left, so she’d take the stew to him. They’d have their evening meal together -- like a family should -- in the jailhouse.

Upon exiting the house, she gazed up with awe at the brilliant sunset streaking across the darkening sky. Reds and oranges more vivid than she’d ever seen painted the canopy above the buildings. She smiled at passersby as she made her way through the streets, her skirts flapping around her legs. The colors of Big Rock appealed to her. They were a refreshing change from the grays and blacks of the sooty city.

Two overly excited cowboys rode their horses in circles in the street, shooting their revolvers off into the air. Diana gave them a stern look. Justice wouldn’t be pleased with their rowdy behavior, as they could hurt someone. Both horses were huge, with big strong hooves and bared teeth.

There were a lot of horses, more horses than residents, so she turned off the busy main street as soon as it was possible, sashaying down a quiet lane between the houses, hiking her skirts to avoid the dirt and questioning whether or not she should have changed. Part of her wanted to show Justice she could be practical, as she hadn’t brought many dresses, there being no room on the stagecoach. Another part of her, the young woman part, wanted to look good for him. She was his wife, a reflection of him, and tonight would be their wedding night.

Diana picked her way around a suspicious puddle, the rest of the lane as dry as parchment. Tonight, they’d share that big bed the house had, snuggling under the covers, naked as the day they were born. She sang softly to herself, swinging the basket. She’d worried a bit about Justice not having the same dreams she had, but when he had kissed her in the church, although too briefly for her liking, her toes had curled, and her pussy had moistened. It had warmed her in a way that Frank’s cold embraces never had, and she knew she’d done the right thing, coming out west.

“You the Chatsworth woman?” A bulky form stepped in front of her. Bushy, black eyebrows cast a shadow over mean, bloodshot eyes.

Diana glanced nervously behind her. A cart blocked her exit. She was trapped, but she wouldn’t let him scare her. She straightened, remembering whom she was married to. “My name’s no longer Chatsworth.” She held the basket between them. “I’ve married the sheriff, Mr. Justice.”

“That so?” The stranger loomed over her, giving Diana a clear view of his battered face. She’d once met a pugilist with the same flat nose.

She glanced down at his hands. They were clenched into big fists, scabs on his hairy knuckles. “Yes.” She took a cautious step backward.

He sniffed the air. “Ain’t no cum in your pussy, and if there ain’t no cum, your wedding ain’t legal.”

Diana’s cheeks burned. He was crude but correct. Their marriage hadn’t been consummated. “Sir, please let me pass.”

“You belong to us, not the sheriff.” The man moved forward, crowding her. “A Burton brother bought and paid for your pussy, and a Burton brother should stick his cock in it. Hell, me and my brothers all will have a go, fucking you good and proper.” He grinned, displaying tobacco-yellowed teeth. Feeling his putrid breath on her face, Diana inched away from him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? With those big tits and wide ass, you’re made for fucking.” He stroked the bulge in the front of his breeches. “You wanna taste of Big Burton first?”

“No.” A shiver of fear crept down her spine. “The sheriff --”

“I ain’t scared of no sheriff.” The monstrous man sneered, reaching out and ripping off her bonnet. Diana gasped, jerking free, the ribbon ties burning her skin. Her ass hit the building, the cart continued to block her exit, shots rang through the evening air and would cover her screams, but she was mere steps away from the jailhouse. If she avoided those big arms, she could run for it.

“You’re a purty little thing, hair like a shiny nugget. Lift those skirts nice-like.” The Burton man pulled back his belt. “And let Big Burton fuck your gold dust pussy.”

Justice would save her. He had to. “The sheriff --”

“The hell with the sheriff.” Burton lunged at her.

She had to save herself. Diana slammed her basket into her attacker’s gut and swung the tin of stew, clipping him in the forehead.

“You bitch,” he howled, yanking one of her makeshift weapons away from her, leaving her with the basket. She edged along the wooden planks siding the building, dodging his grasping hands. “I’m gonna bend you over and ride you raw, like an alpha dog should.”

He was a man-beast too, like Justice, except Justice was more man, and Burton was more beast. Diana reached into her basket, her fingers closing around a warm biscuit.

“You ain’t touching her, Burton,” a deep voice rumbled from behind the man, and Diana relaxed. Justice was here. “She’s mine.” Her toes curled in her calf-leather boots at his possessive tone.

“She belongs to us, Sheriff.” Burton grabbed Diana, holding her in front of him like a shield, his huge hands on her breasts. She struggled, dropping her basket, then grasping at his arms, but she couldn’t free herself. The man as strong as a horse. “These tits are bought and paid for.” He gave her breasts a rough squeeze, and Diana bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“I’ll be settling her accounts.” Justice’s face was dark, the shadow on his chin making his grim lips appear even grimmer. “Leave my wife be, and I’ll let you live.” He hooked his thumbs in his gun belt.

“Ain’t your wife.” Burton pressed her back into him, the ridge in his breeches rubbing against the small of her back, his hands twisting her breasts. He smelled of feces and horse, and Diana’s stomach heaved. “You ain’t fucked her yet ’cause I ain’t smelling your half-breed stank on her.”

“That’s my mistake.” Justice’s brown eyes glinted under his black Stetson. Quicker than Diana could follow, he drew his guns. “Leave her be, Burton. Don’t make me shoot your no-account ass.” His hands were steady, and his voice was cold.

His calmness reassured Diana. He did this every day, she reminded herself, and he knew what he was doing. Subduing bad men was his job.

“I know you, Sheriff. You ain’t gonna risk harming the lady.” Burton yanked at her bodice. Fabric ripped, and cool air hit her heated skin. It took everything Diana had to not react. “All this purty flesh.” Grubby hands reached down, leaving a trail of fear from her collarbone to her left nipple. She held Justice’s gaze, concentrating on breathing. If she lost her head, intuition told her he would too, and that would put them both at risk.

“You’re correct, Burton. I ain’t gonna risk harming my lady.” Justice adjusted his aim, moving the gun barrel up and to the right. “But I’ll shoot you.” He pulled the trigger, the report making Diana’s ears scream with pain.

Burton jerked away from her. There was a crude “fuck,” followed by a growl, and a large, black form leaped over her shoulder. Justice flung himself into the air, his clothes shredding, his arms elongating, brown hair covering his skin, his jaw morphing into a muzzle. The two wolves rolled, their teeth snapping and claws tearing red strips into fur. The black wolf, Burton, was larger, his reach longer, but Justice, the brown wolf, was faster, attacking and retreating, attacking and retreating in a flash of movement.

It was a primitive, graceless fight, and Diana didn’t know what to do or how to help. She picked up the biscuits spilled on the ground and hurled them at the black wolf, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the solid thud of baked goods against furry flesh. When she ran out of biscuits, she threw the basket, followed by the stew tin. Her aim was off, and the tin hit Justice in the rear haunches.

He bounced back, and the two wolves broke apart to circle each other, blood dripping from their jowls, their claws digging into the red dirt. Burton dragged his front right leg, the bullet hole deep in his shoulder, and his ribs showed through the gash on his side.

Justice hadn’t emerged unscathed. The streak of red crossing his wolf chest scaring Diana. She had to stop the fight before he suffered additional damage. She glanced toward the lane entrance. Should she run for help? But who would help her? Justice was the sheriff.

She had to help him, but how? On the dark ground, light reflected off the steel of Justice’s discarded guns. Diana lifted one of the revolvers and pointed it at the black wolf the way Justice had earlier, except her hands trembled badly, the gun barrel shaking. “Stop,” she yelled, and their canine faces turned her way, “or I’ll shoot.”

Burton must have known it was a bluff, Diana having never held a gun before tonight, because he sprang toward her. She braced herself for the impact and her painful death, but that death never came. Justice connected with Burton midair. The black wolf was unprepared for the counterattack, his neck left exposed. Bones crunched, blood gushed out in a forceful arc, and his body dropped, twitching and kicking.

The black wolf was dying. Diana stared. Justice had killed him. Burton’s body returned to human form, lying unmoving in the dirt.

“Gun.” Justice, the man, held out his bloodstained hand. Dumbfounded and shocked by Burton’s violent end, aware that it could have easily been her new husband facedown in the lane, Diana gave Justice the revolver, and she jumped as he put two bullets into an already dead body. “Silver bullets. They’ll kill him faster,” he explained, his voice quiet.