Over the Barrel Read online

  "You might find me much more desirable than the diggers around Pike's Peak," the man continued. Blair cringed as he reached across to touch her knee through her sky blue gown. Drool dripped down the right side of his mouth. "I can be very accommodating."

  "Keep your hands off me, sir! I have no desire for you to accommodate me now or at any other time!" Blair raised her voice as she slapped his hand away.

  "Pardon me, Miss," a deep voice spoke from behind her. "Is this gentleman bothering you?"

  "He certainly is. I do not appreciate being drooled upon. Or touched without invite," she answered crisply, without turning her head to look at the speaker.

  "It appears that the lady is not appreciative of your gestures, mister. How about you and I trade seats and avoid any, uh, unpleasant dealings?"

  Blair watched as the drooling man's eyes widened and his head surveyed the height of her rescuer standing behind her. Slowly, she turned to view him, herself.

  The dark-haired man had pushed aside his coat, revealing a revolver neatly tucked in a holster and a brass badge identifying him as a Texas Ranger. He was tall and sinewy, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His face, largely hidden by the broad-brimmed cowboy hat, appeared to be hard and weathered by the sun and held a slightly crooked nose that was the likely result of a brawl or two. He waited in silence for the offensive would-be miner to move and then gestured for Blair to take the unoccupied seat. With slow and calculated movement, he lowered his body on the bench where she had been sitting. Blair's throat went dry as she observed his deadly grace. Instinctively, she knew that only a fool would cross this man's path.

  He tipped his hat. "Sloan Adkins, ma'am."

  "Thank you for your intervention, Mr. Adkins. I feared that there were no gentlemen left in this country," Blair said, with annoyance.

  "My pleasure. I always enjoy helping a lady in need. I overheard that you're heading for Manitou Springs. You got quite a ride ahead of you, Miss. Do you have a stage waiting to take you across the trail?"

  "Would you care for anything to eat?" she asked, ignoring his question and lifting her basket.

  "No thank you," Sloan shook his head, "I am afraid that trains and my stomach do not fend well together."

  "Nor do mine," Blair said, forcing a smile.

  "I'm heading out to the Peak. There has been a lot of disturbance lately with the miners coming into town, and they've been asking for some reinforcements to come in by end of summer. If you wish, I will accompany you to your exchange." He gestured to the man behind him with his thumb. "There is a heap more of characters like this one, and they are much more dangerous."

  "While I appreciate the offer, I assure you that I can care for myself," Blair said, smugly. "These close proximities simply inhibited my ability to depart from his presence."

  "Sweetheart," Sloan tilted his hat up a tad to expose a cold, blue eye, "you are going to continue to find yourself in close proximity to the presence of these men. A train car is only one type of confinement. In the open, they can run you down just as easy."

  "Thank you for the warning. I will take it under advisement."

  "Don't get many gals from back east with this type of attitude." He sounded pleased. "Betcha you will make one fine teacher. That type of spunk is needed for a classroom."

  "I am not coming out here to teach, be a governess, a housewife, or a mother!" Blair snapped. "Why must everyone assume that because I am a woman, I am obligated to perform the tasks designated to my gender?"

  "Whoa! I don't know what got your trousers in a hitch, but calm down. Just making conversation to keep my mind off my gut."

  Blair blushed, her alabaster skin turning to a pretty pink. She cleared her throat and dipped her head. "I apologize, Mr. Adkins. I tend to get a little defensive nowadays. I thank you for the compliment. You are one of the few who deem my disposition to have merit."

  "People are fools if they can't see past their own discomfort. I've been known to have a bit of a bad attitude myself. It's gotten me into my share of trouble, too," he chuckled, crossing his long legs while stretching his arms across the back of the bench.

  "I can believe that. Society appears to predetermine our behavior based upon society's comforts, does it not?"

  "To hades with society. I've got me a life to live and I am not going to shift my behavior to fit into a crowd that I have no interest in belonging to. Can't afford to." He fingered his badge. "I deal with too many noncompliants. I do what I need to in order to survive and still be able to look in the mirror the next day."

  "We don't see many Rangers in Philadelphia," she commented. "I am also detecting a slight accent if I am not mistaken. Massachusetts?"

  "I had some personal business to attend to. You have a good ear. I was born and raised in Boston. Got tired of being confined to an office and made my grand escape to the Great Lands. Folks weren't too happy with that. How about you?"

  "I was at continuous odds with the Young Ladies Academy," Blair grinned, pleased to find that she was not alone in the need to break away from the restrictions of the well-to-do. "The headmistress did not appreciate being called an old pig-faced sow, nor did my great-aunt take well to being informed that she was selfish and judgmental. I do loathe high society and did not mince my words, failing dreadfully in every area of etiquette expected of a lady. I fear my vocabulary turned slightly to the vulgar side and nearly caused the old witch a fit of apoplexy."

  "I can guess that did not go over well on either account," Sloan smiled back, flashing straight white teeth and a dimple on his left cheek. "Although, a lady with an uncontrolled temper can be dangerous as well as difficult to live with. That's not a good combination in these parts. People aren't comfortable being around a sharp tongue or a grizzly character. It tends to make their trigger finger itch."

  "I would have no need to demonstrate my temper if I were allowed some freedom to make my own choices and design my own life," Blair said defensively. "People must learn how to leave well enough alone. If they do not care for my temper, then they can depart from my presence. It is quite simple."

  "I see." Sloan tilted his hat back, revealing a black patch covering his left eye. "Just beware of what happens when one seeks out a fight. She will easily find one. I am speaking from experience."

  "What do you mean by that, Mr. Adkins?"

  "Pardon me for saying so, but you seem to be a bit defensive. If not in your words, then your tone. A listener can interpret that in a bad way and, in these parts, it can lead to a fight. Just a word of warning, Miss Farbor. Just a word of warning."

  "How did you know my name?" Blair frowned.

  The ranger shrugged, "I overheard you mention it earlier."

  "Did I? I must have forgotten."

  "Circumstances like these often lead to distractions. Be careful of these distractions. They can cost you."

  Blair bristled before changing the subject. "Please forgive me for noticing, but what happened to your eye?" Blair asked quietly.

  "This is the perfect opportunity for me to share a tall tale of a knife fight or an Indian arrow, but I loathe fibbing. Truth is I got into a scrape with a polecat. He won." Sloan offered a lazy grin. "Doc said to keep it covered for a few weeks so I don't go rubbing on it. Temporary inconvenience that makes me look like a scoundrel."

  "It sprayed you in the eye?" Blair's mouth hung open with disbelief. "Why in the world did you allow it to get so close?"

  "I didn't allow it, girly. The varmint found its way into my bed blankets and didn't care for me rolling over on it."

  Blair frowned. "You were cuddling up to a skunk?"

  "I wouldn't quite call it that, although that animal might differ in its opinion. Are you laughing at me?"

  "A trifle." Blair dabbed the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief.

  Sloan grunted. "Ladies with proper manners don't go laughing at a man's injuries or his indignities. Got any biscuits in that basket?"

  "Freshly baked this morning. I picked the
m up at this last stop. Please, help yourself. I am certain they taste much better without the scent of skunk on your hands." Blair grinned broadly, unable to resist her comment.

  "Very funny, Miss Farbor." Sloan's unpatched eye twinkled as he took a bite of the fluffy biscuit. "Very funny. I see this is going to be an interesting journey."

  Chapter 2

  Blair glanced behind her shoulder as she stretched her legs at the depot in St. Louis. She had planned to gather some more food and refresh herself before re-boarding the train. She sighed as she considered the final stretch of train travel and then the agonizing six-week-long stagecoach ride to her Grandfather's ranch. The hair on the back of her neck rose as she noticed that the would-be miner was following her. She ducked into the crowd of people and dodged speedily around several corners in an effort to avoid crossing his path. Her luck ran out as she faced a tall wall. She turned to find that his heavy-set form blocked her exit from a narrow corridor between the train depot and the town's inn.

  "Where are ya headed, sweetheart? Would you like an escort?"

  Blair glared into his face, holding back the need to gag at the smell of his rancid breath. "I thought I made myself clear that I was not interested in you or your endeavors to pursue me. Remove your hands from my person!"

  The man pushed her against the wall and leaned over her face. "Little girls like you don't know what they want. They wouldn't recognize a real man until he shoves his cock into her quim."

  "Let me go!" Blair screamed.

  He clapped his filthy left hand over her mouth and began to fumble with her skirts. "Shhh, it will only hurt for a moment, and then you will become the perfect whore for me."

  Fear seized Blair as his fingers pulled at the ribbon of her drawers. She bit down with all her might on the heel of his hand, tasting blood as her teeth sank into flesh. The man yelled out in pain and backed away, clutching his bloody appendage. Rage covered his bloated face and he backhanded her solidly across the jaw. Blair tumbled to the ground, barely missing striking the back of her head against the brick wall. She fought against him as he straddled her hips and held her wrists over her head. The strip of fabric torn from her gown and stuffed into her mouth muffled her screams for help.

  "You are going to feel what it is to be fucked by a real man," he snarled, yanking her skirts to her waist and parting the split undergarments to expose her lightly furred mound. Blair's struggles increased as he jammed his knees between hers to force her thighs apart and pulled his bobbing cock from his pants. He aimed it towards her untried womanhood, ignoring the sheer panic that lit across her eyes.

  "No!" she screamed as the tip of his filthy cock nuzzled against her entryway.

  A shot rang out, and the man stiffened before falling across Blair's chest. She shoved the body to the side and scrambled to sit against the wall, her eyes filled with terror-stricken tears as she pulled the fabric to cover her body.

  "You okay, Miss?"

  "He was going to ... he …" Blair began to sob.

  Sloan squatted in front of her. "He's dead. You were lucky I was here. Did he hurt you?"

  "No, I …"

  "Your lip is bleeding. Here." He tore a piece of linen from her underskirts and dabbed the corner of her mouth. "You're gonna be all right. Take some deep breaths, girl. Come on, breathe …."

  Blair looked up into his face and burst into a new set of tears. With a loud sigh, Sloan sat on the ground and pulled her into his arms. "We are gonna have to teach you how to survive in these parts, Miss Farbor. This isn't the big city, where you can call a police officer to assist you. Do you have a given name, by the way?"

  "Blair. Blair Lorraine Farbor."

  "Blair is an interesting name. Unique, to say the least. Scottish?"

  "Why, yes," Blair said with surprise. "I am impressed. Not many people know of such things. My father had a mentor whose name was Dr. Blair. I was named in honor of him."

  "I see. I know I have heard your last name before but could not quite place it. Your grandfather isn't Malcolm Farbor, of Blue Sky Ranch, is he?"

  "Yes."

  "He's a big name in those parts. Got loads of money, holds several water rights, and is very powerful in cattle country All this just doesn't line up. What's your story, kid?"

  "I should not…"

  "Ma'am, I just killed a man for you and possibly saved your life, as well as your virtue. You owe me an explanation as to why you are out riding the tracks without an escort, especially with a wealthy granddaddy."

  "Very well," Blair sniffed, leaning against his chest and allowing herself to gain some comfort following her harrowing experience, "Malcolm is my grandfather from my mother's side. When I was a child, my parents died of consumption and I went to live with my aunt. She forced me to keep the family name so she would not be reminded of how much she hated my father." Blair's voice grew sad. "Grandfather Malcom doesn't even know I'm coming. Truth is, I've never met him."

  "And the reason you are traveling unescorted?"

  "My aunt had me removed from her home because of my defiance. Madeline, my maid, packed my trunks and a cheese-and-bread basket for me, against Aunt Imelda's wishes. She also put enough money in my purse for food and the stagecoach. Aunt Imelda just wanted me to suddenly disappear without a sound and without resources. She is a very bitter, selfish old woman."

  "You poor girl. That explains a lot, including your lack of caution. Well, Miss Farbor, since you and I are heading toward the same destination, you may consider me your traveling companion. Manitou Springs is rising with the finding of those gold veins up at Pike's Peak and along with that, there is an influx of outlaws who are heading in to take what they can. It's a dangerous place where you are heading. Even more for an unattached woman without the safety of an escort."

  "I did not know that. I have been begging for years for my aunt to allow me to leave Philadelphia and move to my grandfather's. I just imagined his ranch to be a nice, big plot of land with nobody to tell me what to do," Blair said, suddenly feeling very naïve. "I know I sound like a foolish child, but I could not breathe in the city. She kept me confined in my room or at the school, and it raised my ire. I just had to get out, and the only way I could consider accomplishing that was to be unruly. I was surprised that she did not send Madeline to accompany me. I suppose it was because she truly did not have concern about my safety," Blair added sadly.

  "Foolish or not, you have made your choice and will now have to live with it. Women are a scarcity here, and many a brawl has happened in the process of trying to claim one. To travel alone risks death—or worse—for a gal such as yourself.

  Up you go," Sloan said, helping her to her feet. He brushed the dirt from her gown with his hand, ignoring her protest as he clapped dust from her backside. "Like it or not, I am assuming the position as your protector until you are safely deposited in your grandfather's care. You are not to leave my sight at any time, understand?"

  "I did not request you to take charge of my safety, nor do I desire it. I can …"

  "Take care of yourself? Must I remind you what just happened here? See that? It is a dead man. One that was killed by a bullet that came from my gun. He was in the process of raping you and you had no ability to defend yourself."

  "I don't need a protector! I just need a gun of my own!" Blair stomped her foot.

  "That is not going to happen any time soon, Miss Farbor. Not only do you need someone to watch out for you, but you also might benefit from a good strapping across your bare bottom. You will mind me, follow my orders for your safety, and control that little temper of yours until I see you home. Defy me, and you will find yourself bottoms-up over a barrel."

  "How dare you speak to me with such familiarity? You have no right!"

  "I assume the right when a lady's life is endangered. More so when that lady is a spoiled little girl."

  "You self-righteous, son of a…"

  "One thing I might warn you about. I am a God-fearing man, and I do not seek entertai
nment with sordid characters, whores, or saloon girls. If I hear you swearing, I promise to gather a switch and help you choose more appropriate ways to express your discontent. If you want to survive to see your grandfather's ranch, then you will follow every order I give you."

  Blair glared at him. There was no doubt in her mind that he would follow through on his threats or that he would do what was required to make his point. She gathered her skirts in her hands and stomped off back towards the train depot, determined to put as much distance between her and Mr. Sloan Adkins as possible. She abruptly stopped in her tracks as the train disappeared down the railway.

  "Looks like it left without us," Sloan said calmly, fanning his face with his hat.

  "What are we going to do? I have very little money and all my belongings are on that train."

  Sloan shrugged. "Guess we will just have to hoof it."

  "You wish me to WALK all the way to Colorado territory? From St. Louis, Missouri? That will takes years!"

  "It's about 800 miles to the Peak. Figuring about ten miles or so a day on horseback, we are looking at three months travel time, assuming we can get ourselves a couple of horses and a wagon. We should reach there by the end of the summer if all goes well. Are you crying again?" Sloan rolled his eyes. "Toughen up, girl. This is not a tea party. Show me some of that grit that you were boasting about these last four days. Follow me. Play along and do not argue with me. If anybody asks, you are my wife."

  "I thought you loathed fibbing."

  "Sometimes lies are necessary to keep you from being killed. Unless you have a better idea, I suggest you follow my direction. Do you?"

  "Not at this moment," Blair pouted. "I will have you know, sir, that I do not appreciate being told what to do."

  "You will have to either adjust or get over it, girl. You aren't in the safety of pretty walls anymore. Lift your chin and walk with confidence. This is about survival, kid."